Picking Up the Pieces
by TwilightMoonbeams
Summary: Life isn't over after the war, but at times, it sure seems like it for those who survived. Slowly they cope with the loss of their loved ones as they try to repair their world and remember how to be happy once again - A collection of one shots depicting the lost years before the epilogue.
1. May 15 1998

**A/N This idea has been floating around in my head for a while. I always wondered how the gang got along between the end of the story and the epilogue, so here's my version. All the stories are connected but each chapter focuses on a different character. **

Harry finished stacking the dishes in the cupboard at The Burrow. He took great comfort in doing his chores the muggle way now. It hadn't even been a fortnight since the fateful events that transpired at Hogwarts. The echo of their fallen friends still hung in the air and Harry knew he wasn't the only one who was wracked with guilt.

"Harry dear," Molly poked her head in the window, "I can finish up in here."

"It's alright," he told her. "I don't mind."

"Well you're wasting time doing it the muggle way," she pulled out her wand to magic the dishes to their place. "I need the kitchen to prepare dinner."

Harry was a bright boy. He took the hint and meandered into the hall where he found Ginny's door ajar. He peeked inside and found her sitting on her bed, Hermione opposite her. He tapped lightly on the oak door.

"Harry!" Hermione smiled at him. "We were just thinking of taking the brooms out and playing a quick game of Quidditch."

"You, Quidditch?" he chuckled at his friend.

"We could all do with some cheering up," Ginny piped in. "Something to get our minds off of...everything."

"I don't know how that will go over with your mum," he laughed. "She's already got dinner started."

"She'll have our heads if we start a game now," Ginny sighed. "Maybe afterward."

They all agreed to scrap the Quidditch talk and step out into the garden. Mum was expecting a few more faces at the table tonight so they set up outside. Harry fetched the dishes he had just cleaned and began placing them at the table they had conjured. Meanwhile Hermione busied herself picking flowers from the garden and Ginny searched for a pot to put them in.

The table was nearly finished when Ron stepped out into the cool night air. He pulled out the deluminator Dumbledore had gifted him and opened it so a dozen fairy lights dangled over the table. Hermione's face lit up when she saw him.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"I had to see a man about a car," he replied.

"You don't fool me," she scoffed. "You haven't even got a muggle driving permit."

"Well, with the old Anglia lost in the forbidden forest," Ron explained, "I'm trying to convince dad to get another. He loved fixing up the last one."

"Come inside you lot!" Molly shouted from the kitchen window.

They dutifully followed her voice and each took a dish out to the table. Hermione charmed the serving platters to keep the food warm and Ron charmed the carafes to refill themselves. Slowly, the rest of their guests arrived. First George who poured himself a glass of Firewhiskey before even hugging is mother. Ginny noticed his eyes were puffy and she assumed he had been crying over Fred. She had offered to help him go through their flat but George insisted on doing it alone. The rest of the family respected his wishes.

Shortly after Percy apparated into the living room. He wore a thick wool coat and looked to have arrived straight from his work at the ministry. He was followed by Neville and Luna who did their best to stagger their arrivals but were obviously coming from the same place. Ginny and Hermione exchanged glances when they noticed Luna's exceptionally tangled hair.

"Ginny dear," George handed her his empty glass, "fill me up?"

"Honestly George," his mother protested. "We haven't even had dinner yet."

But she didn't stop him either. She knew George had taken to something stronger than butterbeer since losing his brother. She wished more than anything that he would return to The Burrow. It didn't do him any good staying in that empty flat by himself. Memories of Fred haunted the place. But what she didn't know was that memories of Fred haunted George wherever he went. He couldn't look in the mirror without being reminded of his best friend.

"Arthur!" Molly jumped up when she saw her husband.

"Sorry I'm late," he replied. "The ministry is still recovering. We have twice as much work to do and only half as many able bodies. But I've brought a friend."

"Good evening Molly," Kingsley Shacklebolt flashed her a smile. "I hope you don't mind me interrupting your dinner."

"Oh never," she gushed. "It's always a pleasure."

With their party complete, Arthur and Shacklebolt took their seats. Molly served them eagerly and the group got to chatting. For the first time in years Percy and his brothers got on swimmingly. He was still the butt of all of George's jokes, but he secretly enjoyed feeling like part of the family again. Most of all, he missed his mother's cooking.

Opposite the table, Ron and Hermione swapped longing glances. After enduring a massive threat to their lives, they had become inseparable. Hermione became interested in Quidditch and Ron even took to reading for fun. They didn't care anymore as long as they were together. But their love induced stupor was quickly interrupted when Shacklebolt cleared his throat.

"I have to admit," he told the table, "I had ulterior motives for accepting Arthur's invitation tonight. As you know, we are trying to restore the ministry, and as such I have a proposition for you."

"Me?" Harry asked.

"All of you," the minister gestured toward the entire end of the table. "I know you're all planning to return to Hogwarts in the Fall, but I don't believe that will be necessary. It's rare to see wizards and witches of your ages using magic of such high caliber. I want to extend an offer to work in the auror department."

"But what about our NEWTs?" Hermione asked.

"I think you've proven yourself a competent witch Miss Granger," he replied. "Of course, Hogwarts is always there. I am simply offering an alternative. You have a few days to decide. I'll expect your owls next Friday."

"Thank you," Harry told him. "It would be an honor."

"I should be going," Kingsley shook Harry's had. He tipped his hat to Molly. "Thanks for dinner."

Molly flashed him a smile and the rest of the table watched him leave. The last trace of him was just a quiet pop. The rest of the table slowly stood up and cleared the dishes. Percy excused himself claiming he needed to be up early for work. After his seventh glass of Firewhiskey, George slipped out as well, but not before Molly made him take the Floo Network instead of apparating in his state.

Once the kitchen was clean, they all went to their respective bedrooms. Harry and Ron had moved into Fred and George's old room. It didn't make sense to stay up in the attic all the time. As usual, Ginny shared her room with Hermione. They all tried as much as possible to be closer. After everything that had happened, they couldn't bear to lose each other.


	2. June 11 1998

It was nearly noon before George woke up. Very little light creeped through the closed shutters in the flat he used to share with his brother. Every morning he promised himself he would finally open up the shop again, but he couldn't bring himself to do it, at least not today.

He looked in the cupboard for a pint glass but realized all of them were soiled and scattered around the flat. No bother, he didn't need a glass. He grabbed the last bottle of Steaming Stout from the ice box and uncorked it, taking a huge swig.

Then he turned his attention back to the flat. His first night alone there he has nearly destroyed the place. Throwing dishes and furniture until only remnants of sanity were left. Then he fell to pieces and cried for hours, maybe even days. Just thinking about it again only made him want to cry even more, but he knew it wasn't healthy. He knew, deep down, that his brother would want him to move on, open the shop again, and fill the world with laughter.

_Reparo Totalum!_

Once again the room returned to it's original state. Trinkets were organized and the furniture was back in working order. It almost seemed like nothing had ever happened, but it had. His brother, his best friend in the entire world, was taken from him.

"George!" he heard a tiny whisper from his brother's bedroom. It happened again. "George!"

He tiptoed toward the sound. Maybe it was all a mistake, or a dream. He stepped into the empty room. He hadn't touched a thing in there. The bed was still unmade with the imprint of his brother's body left in the mattress. Before he could fall into a dark pool of memories, he heard his name once again, coming from the cupboard. George opened the door and realized the sound was coming from an oak chest.

George pulled it down from the shelf and peeked inside. Instantly he knew exactly what was happening. After leaving Hogwarts, he and Fred knew dangerous times were ahead. It was their version of a will. They had placed instructions for the other in case one of them was killed in the war. They charmed the chest to only be discoverable if one of them died. If they both died, it was lost forever.

"What's in here?" George chuckled almost as if he was talking to his brother.

He opened the chest. Inside was the pouch that contained the galleons Harry had given them to start the joke shop. George rubbed some pixie dust off the side to reveal an inscription _True death is life without laughter_. He was struck by a pang of guilt. The shop needed to open again, otherwise his brother's legacy would be lost. Fred would probably come back and haunt him for that, although George almost preferred that over not having his brother at all.

He continued digging through the contents of the chest where he found a photograph from the night of the Yule Ball. It depicted Fred and Angelina sticking their tongues out and then laughing animatedly until she turned and kissed his cheek.

George remembered that night vividly. It was one of the last times he felt truly happy. Shortly afterward Diggory died and Voldemort rose to power once again. There were still happy moments but they were shrouded in fear.

The night of the Yule Ball was always a happy memory. George danced all night with the girls from Beauxbatons. He charmed them with his clever gags and they rewarded him with kisses. Fred had a good night as well. When they returned to their dormitories, Fred told him Angelina had kissed him. It was the best night of his life.

The two brothers agreed on many things, but most of all, they agreed that Angelina Johnson was the most beautiful girl in their year. George was just the tiniest bit jealous when Fred asked her to the ball, but he got more joy out of watching his little brother gasp in awe.

George took another look at the photograph and realized it hadn't been left for him. He tucked it into his coat pocket and grabbed his broomstick. George had only been there once but he remembered exactly where it was. It only took a few minutes to fly across London and he instantly recognized the red house on the hill. He landed on his broomstick and knocked on the door.

"Good evening," a tall man with dark curly hair answered the door. George instantly recognized him from the photographs.

"Mr. Johnson," he smiled. "I'm a friend of Angelina's."

"Mr. Weasley?" came the friendly reply. "From the joke shop?"

"Yes sir," George smiled weakly.

"I can't get enough of your Extendable Ears," Mr. Johnson told him. "Will you be opening up shop soon?"

"Soon," George echoed. "Still working on the dates but I'll be sure to send you some by owl. Anything for Angelina's father."

"Oh right!" he remembered the task at hand. "Angie! She's not here anymore. You can find her at St. Mungo's."

"St. Mungo's!" George gasped. "Is she alright?"

"Oh she's fine," Mr. Johnson assured him. "She's training to be a healer. Got the calling after the war. Darn good at it too, might I add."

"I've got to go!" George said animatedly.

"Of course son," Mr. Johnson replied. "And I'll be expecting the Extendable Ears!"

"You got it," George replied already on his broom.

He soared over London and landed covertly across from the abandoned building that housed the largest wizarding medical center in England. Making sure no muggles were around, he crawled in through the broken window and crossed into the reception area. He hugged his broom tightly and turned to his left where he saw Angelina studying a piece of parchment. He approached her slowly and she looked up confused.

"George!" she smiled. "What are you –"

"I have something for you," he told her.

"Yeah?" she asked. "What's that?"

"Can we talk somewhere?" he pleaded.

She looked around quickly then glanced at her watch.

"Yeah," she told him. "I guess I can get away for a bit. Fancy a cup of tea?"

"I was hoping for something stronger," he chuckled.

"Come on," she linked arms with him.

George felt as if he was sucked into a vacuum. When he was back on solid ground, they were standing in the alley behind The Leaky Cauldron. Angelina took his hand and led him inside where they found a table. Hannah Abbott, who had recently taken to working there, scurried over to take their order: two butterbeers and a firewhiskey for George.

"So," Angelina smiled, "what brings you around?"

"I didn't know you wanted to be a healer," he said ignoring her question.

"It wasn't always the plan," she replied. "I spent some time with the International Quidditch Committee right after school but then death eaters took over. I moved in with my dad and stayed quiet. After, you know, we needed more healers. It seemed like the right thing to do."

"I reckon you're good at it," he smiled. "Always mended us nicely after a brutal practice."

"Hey," she took his hand, "how are you doing, since, you know..."

George didn't even know how to respond. He knew Angelina was only asking out of courtesy. She knew better than anyone that he was a mess without his brother. After taking a swig of his firewhiskey, he remembered why he had sought her out in the first place. He picked the photograph out of his pocket and slid it across the table to her.

"I found this," he explained as she examined the image. "I thought you'd like it."

"Thank you," Angelina smiled tracing the image with her fingers.

"He told me," George said solemnly, "this was the best night of his life."

"I'm sure it was," Angelina remembered it fondly. "He swiped a bottle of Dragon Barrel Brandy from Hagrid's hut. We were pissed by night's end. McGonagall knew but she didn't let on. I'll always love her for that."

"He always said," George paused, "you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen."

"I loved him," Angelina sighed. "Not as much as you, of course. I don't think anyone ever could. But I loved him and I should have said so."

"I think you did everything right," he assured her. "Fred thought the world of you."

"Did you know," Angelina chuckled at the though, "he asked me to marry him once? Kidding, of course. He proposed with a jelly slug tied in a knot. Then he warned me he'd spike my pumpkin juice with love potion if I told him no."

"What happened?" George asked, a smile creeping across his face for the first time in weeks.

"Then Fleur's Veela cousins arrived," Angelina laughed. "He got distracted pretty quickly."

"He never told me that," George said quietly.

"Sorry," she winced. "I didn't mean to..."

"No," he said quickly. "It's nice."

"I should get back," she said finally. "They'll be wondering where I went."

"Oh right, sorry," George replied getting up.

"It's okay," she hugged him tightly. "Don't be a stranger."

George wrapped his arms around her. He inhaled her scent and was reminded of the days when they were huddled together on the Quidditch pitch at Hogwarts. Holding her in his arms brought him a comfort he hadn't been able to find in anyone else. A part of him wished they could stay like that forever, arms around each other in The Leaky Cauldron, but he knew he had to move on and he never would if he kept clinging to the past.


	3. July 31 1998

Neville pulled a lump of knotgrass out of the ground. He picked out the bugs and handed the bunch to Ron. Harry looked on confused. He was still unsure of why they had accompanied Neville to collect plants and weeds.

"I think that's about enough," Neville said finally.

"Enough for what?" Harry asked, still confused.

"You'll see," Ron winked at him.

The three of them wandered back toward Neville's grandmother's estate. She was out for the day doing the shopping and they were all alone. Neville let them inside and got to work brewing a potion. Secretly Harry wished he were anywhere else, it was his birthday after all.

"Anyone care to tell me what's happening?" he asked aloud.

"Remember that night," Ron began, "back at The Burrow? My brothers couldn't stop laughing and mum thought they were ill."

"Yeah," Harry nodded. It had happened right after they rescued him from the Dursleys in a flying car.

"We're making that potion," Neville smirked.

"What's it for?" Harry asked.

"Helps you remember the happy times," Ron replied. "I think we could all use a little."

Harry nodded. He knew the war had been hard on everyone and he felt guilty for being the catalyst for so much death and destruction. He knew deep down, that it was for the better. The ministry was slowly returning to what it used to be. There was still the matter of tracking death eaters who still pledged their allegiance to the most powerful dark wizard who ever lived, something he and Ron were helping Shacklebolt with.

"This should be ready in a bit," Neville let them know.

He took out his wand and cast a spell to solidify the potion. Then he plopped it in his pocket and led them toward the fireplace.

"Now where are we going?" Harry asked.

"The Burrow," Ron replied. "We're going to share, of course."

Harry rolled his eyes. He could sense something was amiss. Neville was unusually quiet and Ron hated The Burrow lately. Everyone was too melancholy, but he figured maybe that's what the potion was for, helping everyone remember what it was like being happy.

Neville stepped into the green flames first followed by Ron and Harry went last. After whirling past hundreds of fireplaces, Harry found himself in the living room of the Weasleys' family home, but it wasn't exactly as he had remembered. Dozens of familiar faces filled the room and streamers were hung from every wall.

"Surprise!" they cheered when they saw him step into the room.

"Happy birthday Harry," Ron patted him on the back.

"What?" Harry looked around confused. "You all did this for me?"

"We did it for everyone," Neville told him. "Now come on, let's celebrate."

Harry smiled. He found Mrs. Weasley in the crowd and gave her a bone-crushing hug knowing she had probably slaved all morning preparing for the festivities. Then his eyes landed on Ginny. She wrapped her arms around his neck and placed a delicate kiss on his cheek. It took every ounce of strength in his body not to whisk her away upstairs.

Begrudgingly, Harry remembered his manners and separated himself from Ginny. He greeted all his friends: Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Lee Jordan, even Parvati has forgiven him since the Yule Ball. They were all there. Harry hadn't seen them since that fateful night at Hogwarts but he was pleased to see them all alive and in one piece, apart from George whose ear would always be a casualty from his last night at the Dursleys.

"Come on now," Molly cleared her throat. "Let's go out to the garden. I've made enough food for an army."

She chuckled at her little joke remembering Dumbledore's Army. They were all present and grateful to Harry for giving them the knowledge to survive the darkest night of their lives. It was bittersweet being in the presence of all their old friends. They were happy to be alive and together, but survivor's guilt still hung over all of their heads.

"Harry!" Oliver Wood cornered him once they were all outside.

"Hi," Harry smiled. "How's Puddlemore?"

"It's been great," Oliver told him. "There were some hiccups trying to put the cup together this year, but I think we'll have a good year in the fall."

"Hi babe," Katie kissed Oliver's cheek. Then she turned to Harry. "Sorry I'm late. Hope I haven't held up the festivities."

"It's just good to see you," Harry hugged her. "So, you two, when did that happen?"

"We realized life's too short," Oliver explained.

"As long as we're not on the same team," she smirked, "we do just fine."

Harry smiled. It made him happy to see everyone gathered together in the garden at The Burrow. If they couldn't be with their fallen loved ones, they could relish the days when everyone spend time with those who were alive. All of them were quickly starting to realize the same as Katie and Oliver: Life's too short.

"Katie!" Angelina came running across the field with her broom in hand. She hugged her best friend tightly.

"Angie!" Katie squeezed the life out of the raven-haired girl. "Where's Alicia?"

"Sorry Harry," Angelina turned to him. "She couldn't make it."

"That's alright," Harry told her. "I'm just glad you're here."

"Hey," she looked around, "have you seen George? Says he's got a package for my dad."

"Check inside," Harry told her. "He was in the kitchen last I saw."

Angelina kissed his cheek and thanked him before heading into the kitchen. She found a lopsided cake with seven layers on the long dining table. Next to it, gifts were stacked up until they reached the ceiling.

"George?" she called out.

There was no answer. She tiptoed into the living room and again found no trace of life. Slowly, she stepped upstairs and paused on the second floor landing. She peeked into the bedroom George had once shared with Fred. Then she saw him sitting cross-legged on the floor, a glass of murky purple liquid in his hand.

"May I?" she asked taking a step inside.

"Angie?" he looked up. "Sit."

"You're not at the party," she told him.

"Couldn't face them," George took a swig, nearly emptying his glass. "Half of them are expecting me to make them laugh and the other half look at me with this face, just dripping with sympathy. I can't take it."

"Shutting yourself up isn't going to help," she told him.

"You don't know what it's like!" he shouted throwing his glass across the room. It shattered into pieces leaving shards of glass littered on the bed.

"You're right," she rested her hand on his, squeezing tight. "I don't know. None of us knows."

They were both quiet for a while. The happy sounds of laughter filled the air, only making George feel worse. He rubbed his temple and buried his head in his hand. Angelina did the only thing she could think of to help. She just sat there silently holding his hand.

"Thank you," he turned to her finally.

"Come on," she helped him to his feet. "Let's get you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry," he replied.

He stumbled into her arms. The bitter liquid he had consumed rising to his head and meddling with his senses. He hated the feeling, but it was the only thing that helped him forget. He loved her for not judging him, not making him put down the drink. She just helped him steady himself without giving him one of those pathetic looks of sympathy.

It was probably the potion, or maybe he just needed to feel the warm touch of someone who loved him. George didn't really care why, but he cupped her chin in his hand and pulled her close by sliding a hand around her waist. Their faces nearly touching. She could feel his hot breath on her cheek but she didn't pull away.

Finally, George brought his lips to hers. For a second, he forgot everything. He pressed her against the wall and deepened the kiss. Their tongues smashed together as their hearts beat faster and faster. Then she pushed him away and took in a deep breath.

"We can't do this," she said.

"Right, sorry," he shook his head. "I...I'm just not in the right state."

"It's okay," she replied. "We just can't...not like this."

She left the room and George stood there not knowing what to do next. He didn't know how to live without Fred. He didn't know how to be just himself.


	4. August 5 1998

Ron started the motor of the silver sedan. Harry was in the passenger seat fiddling with the controls. Slowly the car hovered a bit over the ground before turning in visible. Ron gunned the engine and it soared into the air at an alarming speed. By the time Ron managed to slow it down, they were already over Belgium.

"Wicked!" Ron laughed.

"You think it'll work?" Harry asked. "We've only ever taken it as far as Russia."

"It has to," Ron replied. "It's her only chance. We can't apparate across state lines and the floo network will take forever if we don't have a specific destination."

"Good luck convincing her," Harry laughed.

"Shove off," Ron replied as they landed back on the ground. "I don't want you around when I do it."

Harry laughed. He opened the car door and stepped out leaving Ron to ponder his thoughts. Ron cut the engine and tried to muster up the courage to ask out the girl he had been in love with since he first saw her on the Hogwarts Express. He got out of the car and checked the boot to make sure both trunks were in there. Then he took a deep breath and stepped into the kitchen.

"Hermione?!" he called out.

"In here!" he heard her reply.

He walked into the scullery where he saw her searching through various baskets.

"Have you seen my blue blouse?" she asked. "It's missing. In fact, loads of my clothes are missing."

"I have them," he explained.

"What are you doing with them?" she scoffed. "Are you stealing my knickers?"

"No," he laughed. "I asked Ginny to do it."

She gave him a horrified look.

"Sorry," he said quickly. "Let me explain."

Ron took her hand and led her outside to where the car was hidden in the orchard.

"I think I owe you something," he explained. "After...er...everything, I never told you...that I...er...love you."

"You what?" she laughed.

"I love you Hermione," he sighed. "Alright, I said it. I love you!"

She smiled and grabbed his hand, pulling him close.

"I love you Ron Weasley," she giggled.

A smile stretched across his face. He leaned down and kissed her lips delicately. Hermione latched her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. She would never forget the day she realized she loved him. Ron was perfect for her.

"Wait, that's not it," he pulled away. "I realized I've never taken you on a proper date."

"Okay," she smiled. "What' the plan?"

"We're going on a trip," he explained as they reached the car.

"In this?" she asked confused.

"Just get in," he replied. "I've already packed your things."

Still skeptical, Hermione crawled into the front seat. Ron started the car and set off the invisibility booster. Once they were in the air, he steered the car in the right direction and set it to drive automatically.

"So," Hermione leaned back in the passenger seat, "where's the big date happening."

"Before I tell you," Ron explained, "I can't make any promises."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked.

"I know you wanted to wait until you were certain," he continued, "but I want to do this with you."

"What are you saying?" she was still confused.

"We're going to Australia," he explained. "I want to help you find your parents."

"Ron, I told you – " she was furious and he knew it.

"Sorry," he protested, "but I couldn't wait any longer."

"Why are you in such a hurry?" she protested. "Why couldn't you let me do this on my own."

"Because I need to find your dad," Ron said at last. "Otherwise how will I ask his permission to marry you?"

"Oh Ron!" she melted. "You want to marry me?"

"Of course I do," he laughed, but then quickly put on a serious face. "Wait, do you want to marry me?"

"Yeah," she smiled. "I do."

Hermione scooted across the bench and kissed his cheek. Then she rested her head on his shoulder and he wrapped an arm around her. She couldn't imagine anywhere else she would rather be.

"So," she sighed, "how much longer until we're in Australia?"

"A few hours," Ron explained. "It's as fast I could charm this muggle contraption."

"It's faster than an airplane," she replied.

"An...err...what?" he asked.

"It's a flying muggle thing," she explained.

"Oh right," Ron replied. "Of course."

"What's the plan?" she asked. "When we get there? How do we find my parents?"

"I thought you would know," he replied. "You hexxed them."

"Australia is a huge country," Hermione replied. "I should have been more specific but I wasn't even thinking then."

"It's okay," Ron took her hand. "We'll find them."

She hoped he was right. For the first time in her life, she didn't really have a plan. If she was truly honest with herself, she knew that she hadn't expected to even see her parents again. She was completely ready to fight to the death in order to defeat Voldemort. Her only thought at the time was to protect her parents.

* * *

When Hermione opened her eyes again, Ron was landing the car in an open field. He parked, this time not crashing into an enchanted tree, and then stopped the car.

"Hermione," he nudged her. "We're here."

She muttered something incoherent and he decided it was probably best to let her sleep. He grabbed the tent Perkins had given his father and set it up with a simple spell. He stepped inside to make sure everything was in order and then went back out to the car to fetch Hermione. She was still incoherent so he picked her up gently and took her inside before laying her down on the bed.

"Where are we?" she asked waiting up.

"The outback," he explained. "We can start searching in the morning."

"We're staying here?" she sat up. "Just us?"

"Who else?" he was confused.

"Ron," she was suddenly awake, "you know we aren't...er...you know?"

"I know," he assured her. "You want to wait."

"I hope that's not the only reason you want to get married," she started to put together the pieces.

"No," he kissed her hand. "I love you Hermione. I want to marry you, even if you make me wait forever."

"Okay," she smiled. "It's just really important to me."

"I understand," he did his best not to look disappointed. "That's why I set up separate beds."

She kissed his cheek. Ron put up with a lot from her but she put up with just as much from him. They were kind of perfect for each other. Now all they had to do was find her parents.


	5. September 1 1998

Harry was falling into a deep sleep when he felt someone nudge him awake. He opened his eyes and found Ginny huddled over him. Her scarlet hair hanging over his face.

"Gin?" he breathed. "It's nearly morning. What's wrong?"

"Shh," she smiled. "Nothing's wrong."

She threw the covers aside and crawled in next to him. Harry couldn't complain but he was terrified of waking up the other Weasleys.

"Erm..." he stuttered, "what are you...you'll wake up the whole house."

"I charmed the room," she replied. "No one will hear a thing."

"And Ron?" Harry nodded toward the bed next to him.

"I spiked his pumpkin juice with Sleeping Drought," she explained. "Won't be up until morning."

She pressed her lips to his, leaving a trail of soft kisses along his jawline, down toward his chest. Against his better judgment, Harry slid his hand around her waist and pulled her close. Then he heard Ron snore loudly.

"No," he pulled away from Ginny. "We can't. Not like this."

"It's our last chance," she told him. "I'll be on the train back to Hogwarts in four hours."

"You need your sleep," he reminded her.

"I'll sleep here," she told him.

"But you leave before Ron wakes up," he warned her. "He'll kill me if he catches us."

"Okay," she kissed his cheek. "I'll be out before sunrise."

"Sunrise?" he laughed. "That's in a few minutes."

"Let's go," she breathed.

Ginny rolled out of bed and grabbed Harry's jumper from the bed post. She slipped it on over her head and took his hand.

"Where are we going?" he asked.

"Sunrise," she whispered.

Slowly they tiptoed out of the bedroom and onto the second floor landing. Ginny led him down the stairs and outside to the shed where the broomsticks were kept. She grabbed the Cleansweep she had inherited from one of her older brothers and hopped on, silently commanding Harry to grab one as well.

Flying by moonlight, she led him to the roof of The Burrow where they landed gently on a flat edge near the chimney. Ginny sat on the roof with her legs dangling off the side of the house. Harry did the same and they both put their brooms aside as the sun peeked over the horizon.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Ginny smiled.

"Yeah," he breathed as warm tones filled the sky.

Ginny shivered in the cold morning air and Harry wrapped an arm around her to keep her warm.

"I have to tell you something," she said slowly.

"What's that?" Harry asked.

"I don't think we should see each other anymore," she replied.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"It was a great summer," she took his hand, "but I'm going back to school and..."

"If you think I'll lose interest," he told her, "I won't. I want to be with you Ginny."

"It's not that," she explained. "I trust you."

"Then what is it?" he asked incredulous.

"It's Rita Skeeter," Ginny explained. "She keeps writing these articles about me...about us. She just keeps saying that I'm using you for the fame."

"Don't pay attention to her," Harry sighed. "She's a liar, always has been."

"I know," Ginny swallowed hard, "but there's some truth to it, you know. I've been in love with Harry Potter since I was five years old and I heard stories of _the boy who lived_."

"I thought you'd know by now," he said, his words dripping with disdain. "I'm not a caricature in _The Daily Prophet_. I'm Harry. Just Harry."

"Of course you are," she smiled. "And I love that. But I need some time to be just Ginny. Not _Harry Potter's girlfriend_, not _that Weasley girl_. Just Ginny. I need some time to be myself."

"I think I can respect that," he sighed.

"You'll always be a special part of my life," she told him. "And maybe next summer we can pick up where we left off."

"So this is goodbye?" he asked.

"Goodbye for now," she replied.

Harry pulled her close and kissed her forehead. He had faced death square in the eye and his only thought had been of Ginny. But as much as it pained him to let her go, he knew it was the best thing for both of them.

He had done the noble thing once before when he needed to protect her. Now it was his turn to respect her wishes and do the noble thing once again. Ginny was right, her entire life, she had lived in someone's shadow. It was time she paved her own way.

"The rest of them will probably be up by now," she told Harry. "We should get back."

Harry agreed and they hopped back onto their brooms before descending onto the field below. They put the brooms away and slipped into the kitchen where Molly was already awake and making breakfast.

"Where have you two been?" she asked.

"Took the broomsticks out for one last ride," Ginny explained.

"Well get your trunk ready," Molly told her. "I reckon you need to leave in an hour."

Ginny dutifully ran to her bedroom and Harry followed to help her pack. Hermione was trying to jinx her trunk closed when they walked in the door.

"Oh, I'll just," Hermione picked up her trunk and bolted from the bedroom.

"What's gotten into her?" Harry asked.

"Trying to give us space, I guess," Ginny replied. "So, I don't think you should come to the station."

"But I already told Shacklebolt I'd be in late," Harry said.

"Then go in early," she told him. "I just think it would be too hard to say goodbye."

"Alright," he kissed her cheek, "then I better go get ready."

"Bye Harry," she sighed.

Harry ran out of the room, presumably saying his goodbyes to Hermione as well, while Ginny finished packing. She loaded all of her robes and school supplies in the dingy trunk and then carried it out back where the car was parked.

Then she sat at the table where Molly quickly fixed her a plate of sausages and toast. Ginny ate very little, still wondering if she made the best decision to put some space between herself and Harry. Ultimately, she knew he had his work cut out for him in the auror department and she needed to focus on her studies. They could both benefit.

"Alright," Ron cleared the dishes from the table. "We best be going."

Hermione and Ginny followed him out to the enchanted car and got in while Arthur took the driver's seat. Giddily, he boosted the invisible car into the air and landed it back on a muggle side street once they had reached London. He turned off the invisibility charm and pulled out onto the street.

"This new car, Ron," he told his son, "it drives like a dream."

"Glad you like it Dad," Ron replied. "Dean helped me pick it out. Bit of a car lover, he is."

"Well tell him he's done a fantastic job," Arthur smiled as he pulled into the train station. "And you too Ron! I didn't even think of all these charms. Sensor charm? Brilliant!"

"Thanks Dad!" Ron beamed.

"Okay now," Arthur cut the engine. "Let's get those trunks out."

Ron and Arthur helped the girls with their baggage and loaded them on trolleys before making their way to the familiar platform. Arthur hugged his daughter goodbye and saw her off on the train. Hermione and Ron stayed back a little.

"I'll miss you," she said as the red train steamed behind her.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "But I'll keep trying."

"It's my own fault," she explained. "I should have put an expiry on the charm."

"We'll find them," Ron assured her. "I'll keep looking when I have time off from the Ministry. Maybe I'll have them back by Christmas."

"Thank you," Hermione kissed him.

Ron held her tightly in his arms. He knew Hermione had an unwavering dedication to her studies but he wanted her to stay more than anything. They finally had a life for themselves. No more chasing after Harry trying to defeat the most powerful dark wizard who ever existed. They could just be themselves, go where they wanted, but now it would be another year before they even had a chance.

He took it as a challenge. He had until the end of her school year to become everything Hermione deserved. He would move out of The Burrow finally and get them a house. Then he'd work at the ministry to become a wizard worthy of a Chocolate Frog card. But most importantly, he would find her parents.

"I've got to go," Hermione said when the final whistle blew.

"I know," Ron kissed her.

Neither wanted to let go, but the naughty cheers for passersby was enough to remind him that Hermione needed to be somewhere. Finally, she pulled away and Ron helped her onto the train with her trunk. She blew him a kiss goodbye as he stood on the platform, waving until he could no longer see her.


	6. October 24 1998

**We're six chapters in so I guess I owe you guys an author's note. I hope you've liked it so far. I promise better chapters are around the corner. There will be some Luna and Fleur chapters, plus some background on Audrey and Astoria. If you have any requests for future one-shots, let me know! I am happy to accommodate if it suits the story.**

* * *

Harry's vault at Gringotts was considerably lighter when he left the bank but he knew that money was headed toward the first home he could ever truly call his own. But that's not to say he was penniless. With the inheritance his parents left him couples with the money Sirius bequeathed and the sale of 12 Grimmauld Place, he had more than enough to live on for the rest of his life, and that was without his salary from the ministry.

After settling the payment, Harry hurried out of Diagon Alley and walked the few blocks toward the house he had bought in a muggle part of London. It was a five story home located at the edge of a park. Harry knew it was a bit extravagant considering he had grown up in a cupboard. But he wouldn't be living there on his own.

"Oi!" Neville was walking toward him. "Harry!"

"Neville!" he enveloped his friend in a hug. "Ron will be waiting for us inside."

They stepped inside the house and took the narrow staircase to the first floor. Neville's mouth fell wide open when he saw the size of the drawing room.

"Harry," he gasped. "This place is enormous. I reckon it's nearly as big as Hogwarts."

"That's an exaggeration," Harry laughed. "But we will be quite comfortable."

"I just got lost finding the loo," Ron said coming down the steps. "This place is enormous."

"Yeah, it's big," Harry shrugged. "It will look smaller when we get furniture and we'll make use of the space."

"Oh, I'm not complaining," Ron replied. "I used to live in an attic."

"I'll take the attic," Neville piped up. "Closer to the roof. I can watch my plants grow."

The three of them explored the rest of the maisonette. A modest kitchen could be reached on the first floor landing. Off of that was a drawing room that commanded an entire floor. Harry assured them the fireplace had already been connected to the floo network.

Two bedrooms were on the second level. Ron moved his trunks into the larger one and Neville settled on the room opposite his after seeing the pitiful size of the attic bedroom. Above that Harry's bedroom took up an entire level, nearly half of it occupied by a bath tub large enough for a giant. Harry worried if Rita Skeeter got hold of that news, the bachelor playboy articles would never end.

The top floor had two more bedrooms of equal size, each with their own en suite. Harry wasn't sure yet how they would come in handy, but he expected they would quickly be filled considering the amount of wizards who were quickly moving to London due to positions opening in the ministry. At the top of the house was a tiny attic, more of a storage space than anything but with lots of light. Harry thought it might make a good owlery. When they were done handling the bedroom situation, they popped down to The Leaky Cauldron.

"Harry," Ron said, food hanging out of his mouth, "I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but what are you planning on doing with all those empty rooms?"

"One's for Teddy," Harry replied. "The other can serve a spare room. Maybe Hermione will move in after school."

"Are you having a laugh?" Ron asked. "Is this because you know she won't..."

"Won't what?" Neville asked. Harry shot Ron a look of caution.

"She won't..." Ron lowered his voice. "She's saving herself."

"Saving herself for what?" Neville was really daft sometimes.

"She's a virgin," Ron hissed. "We're not _doing it_ until the wedding."

A sly smile spread across Neville's face only inspiring anger in Ron.

"What's that for?" he snapped.

"Sorry," Neville shook his head. "I just...I always thought you two had already done it. You know, traveling the country looking for horcruxes."

"I was there too, mind you," Harry reminded his friend.

"Oh come on," Ron groaned. "As if you two are..."

He stopped short when he realized both of them had smug looks on their faces. A gnawing feeling sat in the pit of his stomach.

"Oh no," Ron gave Harry a pleading look, "not with my sister."

"Not anymore," Harry looked down. "We broke things off."

"Why?" Ron roared. "So she can do it with other guys at Hogwarts?"

"No," Harry replied. "There's more to her than that and that's all I will say on the subject."

Thankfully they're uncomfortable conversation was derailed when Katie Bell stepped into the pub accompanied by her friend Leanne who Harry recognized from the DA meetings.

"Harry!" Katie ran over.

He stood up and gave her a warm hug.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Just a little shopping," she replied. "You all know Leanne right?"

"Er yeah," Harry flashed her a smile.

"We'll be working together," she told Harry. "Shacklebolt's brought me on as well."

"Fantastic," Harry forced a smile.

"I have to thank you," she sidled up next to Harry while Katie squeezed into the both across from them. "Without the DA I would never have been prepared for this job. In fact, I probably wouldn't even be alive after the war."

"Happy to hear it," he told her as she accidentally rested her hand on his leg.

"Well, we should get going!" Katie stood up.

"Wait!" Harry said quickly. "You should come over and see my new flat."

"You got a new flat?" Katie laughed. "Wicked! Where is it?"

"A few blocks away," he explained. "It's in muggle London."

It took little convincing but soon they had paid their check and the five of them were headed to Harry's new home a few blocks away. He unlocked the front door and led them through the modest passageway before entering the lavish home he had only acquired that morning.

"It's still empty," Harry warned them. "Still sorting the furniture, you know."

"I think you were being humble when you called it a flat," Leanne explored the home. "This is marvelous."

"Can I get you something?" Harry asked. "We don't have furniture but we do have butterbeer."

"Hey," Katie chimed in. "I was supposed to meet Oliver. Do you mind if he comes 'round here?"

"Er sure," Harry replied.

"Are you on the floo?" she asked.

"Yeah," he paused. "Tell him he needs to get to 'The Stag.'"

Katie thanked him and headed toward the fireplace. His flat mates had gone to the kitchen in search of the butterbeer leaving Leanne alone with Harry.

"So," she pressed her hands together. "The Stag? Is that you?"

"My patronus, yeah," he replied.

"Mind showing us around?" she asked.

Harry obliged and gave her a quick tour of the house ending up in the dark attic. As they were leaving, Leanne stopped short on the landing and quickly turned around. Harry was taken aback by being so close to her. There was a pause before either of them said or did anything. And then she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Harry pulled away in shock.

"Er sorry," Leanne breathed. "I shouldn't have done that. You're girlfriend..."

"No, it's okay," he said quickly. "I don't have a girlfriend. Not anymore."

"Still, I shouldn't have..."

Harry cut her off. This time he kissed her.


	7. November 20 1998

Two weeks prior, that room contained nothing but an oak trunk and a small table boasting a tattered copy of Phyllida Spore's _One Thousand Magical Hebrs and Fungi_. But the room had slowly come into it's own. The first thing Neville purchased was a double bed. He had never had one before.

At Hogwarts slept in a single like the other students. And before that, he had a single bed at his grandmother's home. But times had change and his current circumstance called for a double as he now shared his bed with someone else.

Presumably seven years would change anyone, but seven years of studying magic, even to a pure-blood wizard, was quite fascinating. The added pressure of fighting a the most powerful dark wizard of all time definitely changed a man. Neville had done all of those things.

He had not only evolved mentally and intellectually, there had been physical changes as well. Moving the DA meetings to Hog's Head meant walking a few miles through the empty passageway every week, if not more. He had gotten taller, and couples with the additional exercise, he no longer carried a bit of extra weight around his middle. He even had Hermione repair his crooked smile. Her parents were basically muggle teeth healers.

When she was done, he looked as good as ever. He would never say it out loud, but he noticed just as many girls looking at him, as they did Harry Potter. Not that it mattered to him. The most important thing he had done in his entire life was muster up the courage to tell Luna how he felt about her.

"Hey," Luna fluttered her eyes open and rested her hand on Neville's bare chest.

"Morning," he smiled running his fingers through her long wavy locks.

"You smell like gorfenkle," she told him. "Have you been in the Forbidden Forest?"

"Not since last week," he told her. "But I did bring back some seeds to plant."

"It's okay," she smiled. "I like it. Smells...musky."

"Come here," he tilted her head toward his and kissed her gently.

"I like waking up here," she told him.

"I like waking up with you here," he replied. "In fact, I was thinking..."

"I love it when you think," she kissed his cheek.

"I'm thinking," he took a deep breath, "maybe you could live here. With me."

"What would Harry say?" she mused.

"I already asked him," Neville replied. "He said he would love it. The house is too small for the three of us anyhow."

"That would be nice," she told him. "I think I would like it here."

"How about we get up, then?" he smiled. "Get some breakfast."

"Or," she batted her eyelashes, "we could stay here a little longer."

"Oh," Neville breathed as she traveled back under the covers. "Oh, oh..."

* * *

Ron stood in the kitchen waiting for the kettle to boil. He desperately wanted to cast an instant heating spell but Hermione had gotten him accustomed to doing things the muggle way, something Harry enforced since they were now living in muggle London and had to keep up appearances.

"They're at it again?" Harry asked stepping into the kitchen.

He was referring to the sound of the headboard knocking against the wall in the occupied bedroom above the kitchen. Ron nodded.

"As if you're any better," Ron shot him a look. "Come now, where is she?"

"Morning!" Leanne smiled cheerfully

She had come around the corner wearing a button down that Ron recognized from Harry's wardrobe. Ron rolled his eyes when he saw Leanne plant a sloppy wet kiss on Harry's face. The latter seemed to enjoy it but pulled away quickly out of respect for his friend.

"Alright," Ron groaned. "I'm off to work."

Harry and Leanne were snogging again, too enthralled in their own actions to even notice Ron. He didn't bother with the muggle kettle. He took a cup from the cupboard and filled it with water from the tap which he transfigured into tea. Spending another second in that house with two sickeningly sweet couples made him ill. Moreover he was reminded of Hermione away at school in Scotland. In fact, he had half a mind to apparate into Hogsmeade and take one of the secret passageways into Hogwarts to surprise her.

But his auror training awaited, and instead he walked the few blocks toward the public toilets which served as a covert entry into the ministry. Even though Thicknesse had been removed as minister, the toilets were still the only way into the ministry. They created additional security until Shacklebolt could conduct a thorough investigation. He hoped to reconnect the ministry to private homes of employees by the end of next year.

It was relatively empty this early. Ron had beat the crowd trying to get away from the madness in his home and only a few stray employees wandered the cavernous hallways.

"You're in early!" Ron came across his brother Percy as they both headed into the lift.

"Well, good morning to you too," Ron scoffed.

"I didn't mean anything by it," Percy chuckled. Things between them were still tense but warming up. "It's good to see you."

"You too," Ron replied. "Will you be at mum's for Christmas?"

"Er yeah," Percy said. "Looking forward to it."

"Good, good," Ron nodded as the lift came to a stop.

"This is me," Percy stepped out.

Ron watched him leave and took the lift down to his own floor where Shacklebolt was waiting at his desk.

"Morning Minister!" Ron removed his hat.

"I'm glad I caught you in early," Kingsley told him. "I have a special assignment and I think you would be best for it."

"What's that?" Ron asked.

"We need additional security at Hogwarts," Kingsley continued. "I know you're only in training but we are short staffed. McGonagall will fill you in when you arrive."

"Thank you Sir!" Ron shook his hand.

He gathered his things and hurried toward the lobby where he took the first fireplace to McGonagall's office at Hogwarts. The room was warm and inviting when he arrived but there was no sign of life.

"Hello?" he called out. "Professor?"

"Oh Mr. Weasley!" she seemed to appear out of a cupboard. "Wonderful!"

"Hi Professor," he smiled at her.

"I should thank Kingsley for the speedy delivery," she smirked, "but I'll assume there were other incentives for taking the job immediately."

"How can I help?" he asked.

"In our efforts to repair the castle," she explained, "some of our more creative entry ways were damaged. I will need you to repair and secure them properly with a protection charm until they can be reopened."

"Er sure," he replied. "I can do that."

"I think this might be of service," she handed him a yellowed parchment which he recognized as the Marauder's Map. "Mr. Potter sent it ahead. Said you would know how to use it."

"I...er...yeah, thanks," he muttered looking over the object in his hand.

He was careful not to activate it, unsure of how much the headmistress knew of the map. Not that it mattered, he was unlikely to be punished for wandering the grounds as a student. But McGonagall always instilled a bit of fear in him despite how close they had grown over the years, especially during the last battle. He imagined she was well aware of her effect on former pupils.

"Oh, Miss Granger," McGonagall smiled at the sight of her.

Ron looked up in shock. He had expected to see her there but assumed he would have to finish his assignment before searching for her. Hermione was blissfully unaware of Ron's presence as she smoothed out her skirt, unaware of why the headmistress had summoned her.

"Hermione!" Ron breathed finally coming to his sense.

"Ron!" her face lit up.

She sprinted across the room and hugged him. Instinctively Ron cupped her face in his hand and kissed her deeply. For a second they both forgot where they were. Finally, McGonagall cleared her throat, prompting them to take a breath.

"Miss Granger has been given a reprieve from her classes today," McGonagall explained. "I believe you may find her skills useful, should you need additional help."

Ron could have sworn he saw the headmistress wink at him. Hermione thanked her earnestly and the two were ushered out of the office. When they were back out in the hallway, Ron dragged Hermione toward an empty corridor.

"I've missed you," he breathed.

"Me too," she smiled.

There was no one wandering the halls as class was in session, but Ron wouldn't have cared regardless. He kissed Hermione again throwing caution to the wind as he lifted her into his arms, her legs wrapping around his waist, and pressed her tightly against the wall.

"Wait, stop," she said finally. "We have work to do."

"Oh, right," he smirked. "Come on."

He laced his finger in between hers and led her down toward the statue of Gunhilda of Gorsemoor. She rested her head on his shoulder, and even though he couldn't see her face, he was certain she was smiling.


	8. December 27 1998

George paced the living room in The Stag. With the shop open once again, he was slowly readjusting to life in the real world. He no longer backed away when invited to social events, as was the case when Angelina handed him five tickets to the Harpies match against the Chudley Cannons.

Since finishing her training as a healer, Angelina had acquired a position as the assistant healer for the Holyhead Harpies. Her new job mainly consisted of healing bludger injuries but she enjoyed it more than St. Mungo's. Plus George benefitted from free tickets to matches every so often.

"Oi!" he called out to his siblings. "We're gonna miss the portkey."

"Coming!" Ron yelled as he came running down the stairs in a set of bright orange robes.

"You can't wear that," George shook his head. "We're sitting with the Harpies."

"Fine," with a flick of the wrist, Ron had transfigured his robes so they were blue instead. "But I'm not supporting them."

"Fine," George hollered. "Come on now! Let's go!"

Ginny, who was home for the holidays, came running down the stairs, followed by Harry and Leanne. George handed them each a ticket and within a few seconds they felt the familiar sensation of being pulled by the navel. The tickets transported them to the Quidditch pitch in Holyhead where green and yellow flags soared above the pitch.

"We're here!" George smiled.

He led them into the stadium and they took their seats in the stands. Angelina pointed her wand in the air shooting green and yellow sparks in their direction. George looked down and waved eagerly. In front of him Leanne had practically sidled into Harry's lap, much to Ginny's chagrin. George could practically feel Ginny's blood boiling next to him. On his other side, Ron was completely oblivious to his sister's jealousy, as he watched the Cannons mount their brooms.

"Hey," George kicked Harry, who was snogging Leanne, in the back of the head. "It's starting."

The five of them, well four since Leanne seemed to be uninterested in the match, looked on eagerly as the snitch was set free. Ron clutched his brother's arm anytime it looked like the Harpies might have an advantage, which was most of the match. Meanwhile, George did his best to mediate between Harry and Ginny and keep Leanne from losing an apendage.

* * *

Nearly eight hours later, Galvin Gudgeon finally caught the snitch but the Cannons still suffered an upsetting defeat of 430 to 180 points. Ron hung his head in defeat as they filed out of the stands and met Angelina on the landing.

"Come on," she took Ginny's hand. "I've got a surprise for you."

"Go," George said when he saw the apprehension in her eyes. "We'll be at The Stag. Join us for dinner?"

"Yeah," she smiled and followed her old Quidditch captain toward the playhouse.

"Alright," Angelina warned her, "don't lose your head."

"When have I ever lost my head?" Ginny asked.

"That's my girl," Angelina smiled.

The two wandered into the training area where Harpies players were in various states of undress as they changed out of their Quidditch robes. Ginny felt her jaw drop in awe as she recognized Gwenog Jones, Valmai Morgan and the other players that had graced the walls of her bedroom.

"This is your job?" Ginny clutched Angelina's hand.

"Believe me," Angelina laughed, "it's hard work."

Angelina finished the tour and then headed into her office, which was mostly an exam room. A couple of girls were lined up outside waiting for their injuries to be healed. Ginny waited patiently outside, trying hard not to blush whenever a player flashed a smile her way. Within a few minutes, Angelina was finished and free to spend her evening as she liked.

"So," Ginny asked her, "will you come with me to dinner? I don't think I can handle Harry and his new girlfriend alone."

"Potter?" Angelina scoffed. "He'll come around."

"But in the meantime," Ginny groaned.

"Yeah," Angelina replied. "I could use a proper meal."

The two apparated back to the stag where they found Ron in the kitchen wearing an apron Molly had gifted to him for Christmas, just a few days prior. She had been so thrilled with his interest in cooking during the summer he stayed at The Burrow. In fact, everyone was impressed. Even Ginny had to admit Ron was a decent cook. Besides, it gave her a way out of Molly's surprise cooking lessons. One day her mother would understand she preferred a broomstick to a skillet.

"Hey Gin," Angelina nudged her, "have you thought of what you'll do after school?"

"Probably get a job in the ministry," she replied. "It's Weasley tradition by now."

"Look," Angelina took her aside, "I'm not supposed to know this, and I definitely shouldn't share it with you, but there's a spot opening on the Harpies. One of our Chasers is moving to Puddlemore at the end of this season. The ink on the parchment is still wet but they should be announcing it in the new year."

"Who?" Ginny wanted to know.

"I can't say," Angelina replied. "I've already told you too much."

"Are you saying I have a chance?" Ginny asked.

"More than a chance," Angelina replied. "I told our manager and she'll be attending a few of your matches at Hogwarts. You're definitely at the top of her list."

"Are you serious?" Ginny squealed. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have introduced myself instead of looking like an idiot."

"Trust me," Angelina smiled, "you did everything right."

"But what about you?" she asked. "Why don't you take it."

"I like my job," came the reply. "Besides, I haven't ridden a broomstick in ages. Not seriously anyway."

They were interrupted when George came around the corner, a bottle of ale in his hand.

"What are you girls squealing over?" he asked.

"It's a secret!" Angelina warned Ginny with her eyes.

"You'll know in time," Ginny smirked.

"I probably don't even care," he scoffed. "Girl stuff I'm sure."

"Yeah," Angelina winked at him, "girl stuff."

The girls laughed and Ginny hopped onto the counter while Angelina grabbed them each a beer from the ice box. She popped off the caps and handed one to Ginny before taking a sip. Ginny rolled her eyes when she saw Harry and Leanne skipping down the steps. By the look of his crooked tie and her disheveled hair, Ginny didn't even want to consider what they had been up to.

"Hey," Leanne smiled at the crowd. She turned to Ron. "Where's Hermione?"

"Australia," Ron said solemnly. "She's trying to find her parents."

"Oh," Leanne breathed.

"Uh," Angelina tried to diffuse the tension. "When's dinner?"

"It'll be ready soon," Ron groaned.

"Fantastic!" George slapped a fake smile on his face. This was going to be an eventful dinner.


	9. January 23 1999

With a tiny pop Luna appeared in the kitchen of The Stag. Ron and Harry were sipping tea and hardly noticed her presence until she started unpacking her canvas bags.

"I was going to make breakfast," she explained. "Care for anything?"

"Luna, I would love you forever," Ron said, "if you cooked up a frittata with cheese and tomatoes."

"Sure," she smiled. "Harry? I know you like sausages."

"I'd love some," he replied kindly, "but I'm already late to meet Leanne."

Harry downed the rest of his tea and apparated with a pop, leaving only his cup behind. Ron, eager for someone else to be cooking, grabbed some plates and silverware to help Luna. She was nearly finished when Neville sauntered down into the kitchen dressed in a pair of pajamas Luna had giften him for Christmas. The pattern featured plants from around the world. It was the best gift he had ever received.

"Dear," Luna handed Neville a plate of eggs and sausages, "you need to get dressed. We're headed into Diagon Alley."

"We're what?" he blurted out, his mouth full of food.

"Diagon Alley," she reminded him. "If I'm going to find the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, I'll need more than just a bag of apples. You said you'd come with me today."

"Right," he nodded, inhaling his breakfast.

Next to Neville, Ron snickered as he polished off his own plate. He was hesitant at first, but came around quickly to the idea of Luna moving in. After growing up with the Weasleys, he had become accustomed to a full house. Besides, Luna's cooking was quite good when she cooked for humans. By mistake, Ron had once sampled a raw meat pie meant for one of her trips to visit the thestrals.

"Well," Ron cleaned his plate, "I'm off."

He disappeared upstairs leaving Luna and Neville alone in the kitchen. She cleaned up the dishes she had used to make breakfast and he helped himself to another plate of eggs.

"Thanks Luna," he said as he helped her put the kitchen back in order.

"You can thank me by getting ready," she told him. "We have so much to do."

Neville did as he was told and ran upstairs to get ready. When he reemerged from his bedroom, Luna had finished the cleaning and was reaching for her bag.

"Ready?" he smiled.

Luna nodded and he took her hand as they sauntered out into muggle London. It was only a few blocks before they reached The Leaky Cauldron and snuck past the morning crowd of patrons who had remained from the night before. Outside in the alley behind the pub, Neville unlocked the entrance to Diagon Alley and the two were off.

As Luna gathered rare treats to feed the creatures she found, Neville was enthralled by the petrified plants in the apothecary. He had always planned on using the space on the roof to add a garden. But his auror training was so extensive, that he never had the time. Finally making up his mind to do so, he purchased a few seedlings

Hours later, Luna had finally gathered all the supplies she needed and worked up quite an appetite. Neville suggested The Leaky Cauldron to which she agreed. With his seedlings in one arm and Luna's purchases in the other, Neville led the way toward the pub where they were greeted eagerly by an old classmate.

"Neville!" Hannah Abbott led them to a table. "I heard you're training to be an auror."

"Right," he replied taking a seat. "You remember Luna?"

"Yes, Luna. Hi!" Hannah smiled at her.

"Lovely to see you," Luna smiled.

"I didn't know you worked here," Neville told her. "I thought you'd become an auror too."

"Oh no," she replied. "I've had enough dueling for one lifetime. My uncle Tom owns the place. After school, I thought I'd help him out a bit. Don't let him hear me say this but he's getting a bit old to be managing on his own."

"I like what you've done with it," Luna told her. "Far fewer bestiolas since the last time I was here."

"Bestiola?" Hannah mouthed toward Neville. He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "So, what can I get you two?"

"Butterbeers," Neville replied. "That'd be great."

"In a minute," Hannah smiled before disappearing behind the bar.

"She's pleasant," Luna said quietly. "I remember her from our Dark Arts lessons."

Hannah returned a few minutes later with two steaming mugs of butterbeer and took their order. Luna sipped her drink and reached across the table to take his hand.

"Thank you for coming with me," she smiled.

"I like spending time with you," he replied. "I'll miss you while you're out chasing Umgubular Slashkilters and Gulping Plimpies."

"You'll hardly notice I'm gone," she assured him.

Neville smiled weakly. Lately, he and Luna hardly ever saw each other. Most nights she slept at her father's home or was traveling. He kept irregular hours, sometimes sleeping through the day to work at night. Living together wasn't quite the dream he had expected, although he gathered that Ron benefit from it quite often. His appetite told them as much.

When they were done eating, Neville paid the check and helped Luna with her bags. Arm in arm, they walked the few blocks back to The Stag and followed the trail of discarded scarves and jumpers to find Harry in the stairwell with Leanne. Neville cleared his throat loudly and they snuck past the couple.

"I miss Ginny," Luna said in her usual dreamy voice as she dropped her bags on Neville's bed. "I hope she and Dean are having a splendid time at Hogwarts."

Neville smirked. He was convinced everyone underestimated Luna's intelligence. Leanne, on the other hand, was not pleased with the snide insult, even if Luna had cloaked it as an off-hand comment.

"You shouldn't say things like that," Neville did his best to chastise her.

"Say things like what?" she asked confused.

Luna was too smart for him and her naivete served as an excellent deterrent to keep him off his guard.


	10. February 14 1999

Ginny and Hermione walked arm in arm bundled up as they trudged through the snow. The latter was instantly regretting the decision to wander into Hogsmeade for Valentine's Day. The garlands and floating hearts served as a reminder that she was miles away from Ron in London, but Ginny insisted. She said the two of them could use each other's company. Besides, the halls at school would just be littered with first and second years trying to transfigure the statues into cupids.

"Come on," Ginny dragged her toward the Three Broomsticks.

"How about Hog's Head?" Hermione told her. "No fairies, no garlands..."

"And stale butterbeer?" Ginny scoffed. "Maybe for Halloween. Now come on!"

Hermione rolled her eyes as she followed Ginny into the warm pub. Madam Rosmerta was bumbling around the room serving the unending stream of new customers. The two girls sat down at the only empty table which was tucked under a flight of stairs. Madam Rosmerta quickly took their order of two butterbeers, one with cinnamon for Hermione, and then Ginny excused herself to use the restroom.

Left alone, Hermione looked around the room. The pub was buzzing with new couples. The war had been tough on everyone and they were all eager to fall in love and find happiness. Even she and Ron had been infected. She imagined they likely would never have admitted their feelings for each other had they not been fighting for their lives.

She had struggled in her final year at Hogwarts. The halls of the school were so foreign to her without Ron and Harry by her side. Even Luna had opted to abandon her education in favor of pursuing the rarest beasts.

Ginny was gone awhile. Hermione remembered how long the line usually was on Valentine's Day. All the girls reapplying lipstick and checking their hair to make sure they were perfect for when their beau made the first move.

During Ginny's absence, she noticed Dean Thomas walk in accompanied by Parvati Patil. Hermione knew she had gone on to work at the ministry and assumed she was in Hogsmeade just to spend the day with Dean, whose education was derailed due to his muggle-born status. They had become an item practically seconds after the fall of Voldemort. They were quite the pair, even Ginny thought so.

"Hey," Ginny snapped Hermione out of her thoughts and back to reality. "Sorry I was gone so long."

"Oh, it's no –" Hermione stopped short when she saw Ron standing next to his sister, a grin spread across his face.

"Look who I found," Ginny teased.

Hermione practically threw her aside as she jumped up to hug Ron.

"I can't believe you," she laughed.

"I had to," he replied. "Haven't seen you in weeks."

He kissed her sweetly as Ginny backed away to find her friends. When Hermione pulled away, Ron took her hand and led her up the steps.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"I got a room," he told her. "We can be alone."

Her heart dropped. She hadn't anticipated that. She hadn't really anticipated Ron showing up in Hogsmeade unannounced but she thought, after the talk they had, that she had made herself clear.

"Ron," she tugged on his arm as he pulled a brass key from his pocket, "I don't think this is a good idea."

"What are you talking about?" he opened the door to a private room.

"I thought you understood," she explained. "I'm not going to..."

"Hermione," he shook his head. "I'm not trying to –"

"Why the room then?" she asked. "I don't want you pressuring me into something I'm uncomfortable with."

"Hermione," he stopped short, "believe me, I am fully aware of the fact we're not sleeping together. I just wanted a chance to talk to you, away from the love potions and singing cupids. Besides, the peppermint gives me a headache."

"So you won't try anything?" she asked.

"Of course not," he replied.

She laughed at her ability to turn the tiniest comment into a full blown issue. Ron constantly mocked her for it, but deep down he appreciated her talent for piecing clues together to find the big picture. They both knew that she had saved their lives dozens of times due to the nasty habit of looking past the surface.

"Why don't you tell me," he took a seat on the bed, "what you've been up to."

"It has literally been so dull at Hogwarts," she laughed. "All I ever do is go to classes and study the course work. No trips to the Forbidden Forest or exploring off limits corridors."

"Reminds me of our first few months at Hogwarts," he replied. "Quite dull, weren't they?"

"I remember someone battling a troll," she teased, "only months after arriving."

"That's true," he laughed. "Forget Fred and George. We were the real trouble makers."

"Hey," she took his hand, "how is he? George."

"How would you be?" he sighed. "I guess he's faring better than expected. The shop is doing well. Lee's been helping him. And Seamus too, working on explosives I think."

"That's good," Hermione smiled. "I really should have gone to The Burrow for the holidays. All I did was take a long tour through Australia and I found all the places my parents are not hiding."

"We'll find them," he assured her, "and when we do, I'll buy us all a nice house to live in together. You'll never take your eyes off them again."

"That's sweet," Hermione took his hand. "You've changed, you know."

"We've all changed," he sighed.

He was right. The war changed everyone. They no longer bickered over little things. They relished every happy moment they had. And they were stronger. They had to be.

"Sometimes I miss the old Ron," she sighed.

"Oh yeah?" he laughed. "What about him?"

"I was smarter than him, for one," she laughed. "I never have to explain anything to you anymore."

"Auror training is like a one way ticket to the library," he laughed.

"And it's going well?" she asked.

"You know I can't talk about my secret auror work," he teased.

"You don't fool me," she smirked. "Harry sent an owl last week. Shacklebolt has you debugging broomsticks for Quidditch players."

"I'll have a word with Potter when I get back," he laughed.

"Potter?" she raised an eyebrow.

"We do last names now," he explained. "It's an auror thing."

"Right," Hermione went along with it. "I probably wouldn't understand."

Then she glanced at the clock on the wall.

"Oh, I better get going," she told him. "Train leaves soon."

"Before you go," he breathed.

Ron never finished the sentence. He leaned across the bed and kissed Hermione. She smiled into the kiss and looped her arms around his neck before falling back against the pillows.

"Wait," he told her, "you have to get back."

"Do you have your broom?" she asked. He nodded. "You can take me back later."

"Oh, okay," he broke out into a smile. "We'll just...er..."

"Shut up," she said, before kissing him once again.


	11. March 23 1999

During her free period Ginny sat at an empty table in the library with a book on magical plants open in front of her. She had already written three pages worth and her hand ached from gripping the quill. Next to her, Hermione was busy scribbling away and Ginny was the tiniest bit envious of the other's wits. She was ready to give up when a prefect came running up to her.

"No running in the library!" Madam Pince called out to him.

"Sorry," he turned his attention to Ginny. "McGonagall would like to see you in her office."

"Me?" Ginny asked.

"Ginevra Weasley?" the prefect replied. She nodded. "Yes, you."

Confused by the headmistress' sudden interest in her, Ginny packed up her coursework and stuffed it in her bag before leaving the library. When she finally approached McGonagall's office, she heard voices chatting inside.

"Professor," Ginny smiled when she saw her. "You wanted to see me."

"Miss Weasley!" Minerva gushed. "I'd like you to meet Gwendolyn Morgan. She is the manager for the Holyhead Harpies."

"Nice to meet you," Ginny did her best not to stutter.

"Pleasure," Gwendolyn replied. "We've been watching your matches for a while now."

"Ms. Morgan," Minerva scolded her. "Let's not dally."

"Apologies," Gwendolyn said. "Ginny, what I believe the headmistress is trying to say, is that we would like to extend to you a position with the Harpies."

"Are you serious?" Ginny breathed.

"It's not a starting position, mind you," Gwendolyn explained. "We'll have you on as a replacement chaser."

"Right, of course," Ginny gushed. "Thank you so much!"

"You should thank your friend Angelina," came the reply. "She spoke quite highly of you."

"I'll be sure to do so," Ginny smiled.

They all said their goodbyes and then Gwendolyn took her leave. In her absence, Minerva let out a squeal that took Ginny by surprise.

"Oh!" she laughed. "One of my own, playing for the Harpies. What a joy! I'm sure you're bursting to write home."

"I am!" Ginny laughed, never expecting to share a secret like this with her headmistress and former head of house.

"Hurry off now," Minerva told her. "Tell your friends the good news."

"Thank you!" Ginny said before skipping back toward the library to find Hermione.

As she strolled through the empty halls, she thought about her brother Fred. Usually he and George were the first she would share good news with, especially regarding Quidditch. Ron would appreciate it but his congratulations would be thinly veiled behind jealousy. The twins believed all of her triumphs were just as much theirs.

She took a detour to the Trophy Room located on the third floor. As usualy she made her way toward the Inter-House Quidditch Trophy for the school year of 1993-1994. She didn't have to search for it. The trophy case had become very familiar in her final year at Hogwarts. The wooden plaque boasted seven brass badges adorned in a half circle. Her eyes lingered on the one inscribed with her late brother's name above the title _Beater_.

Ginny stood on her tiptoes to read the inscription on the brass tile. She often wished he'd had a portrait made so she could still talk to him, as she did with the portrait of Dumbledore at times. But George was only twenty years old when he died and he was still busy building his legacy, not thinking about preserving his knowledge and humor for posterity in the form of a two dimensional look alike. It suddenly occurred to her that in a few years she would have outlived him but no amount of years would change that he would always be her older brother. Tears were filling her eyes as classes let out and students slowly began to roam the halls. She wiped her face and headed in the direction of the common room.

"Hey!" Hermione caught up with her. "What was that about earlier?"

"I'm playing Quidditch next year," Ginny explained. "For the Harpies."

"That's magnificent!" Hermione hugged her tightly. "Have you told your mum yet?"

"No," Ginny remembered. "I should probably get up to the owlery tonight."

She left Hermione sitting by the fireplace and disappeared up to her room to write a letter to her mum, including a note to inform her older brothers. A second letter went to George, a third was to thank Angelina, and a fourth to Ron. She considered writing to Harry but she hadn't done so since she left for her final year at Hogwarts. Besides, Ron was sure to tell him.

It had been difficult for her to return home and find that Harry had already moved on with Leanne. Of course she didn't expect him to pine after her, and she had even encouraged him to see other people, but it was devastating to have them parade in front of her. A part of her was certain that Harry knew exactly what he was doing when he brought Leanne with him to the Quidditch match.

When she was done, Ginny hopped up the steps toward the owlery. She sent her post off and watched the owls fly south in formation. Then she went down stairs to the Great Hall where dinner was being served. Almost instantly Jimmy Peakes plopped down in the seat next to her, shoveling sausages into his mouth.

"Is it true?" he asked, spitting food everywhere.

"Is what true?" she seethed. Peakes was great on the pitch, but she preferred not talking to him.

"You're with the Harpies?" he accused her.

"Next year," she replied. "I'll be playing for the Harpies, yes."

"Scooch over," Hermione came in to save her friend.

"Thanks," Ginny sipped her pumpkin juice. "He's dreadful."

"Keep it quiet," Hermione told her. "You've still got two more months with him on the Quidditch team."

"Don't remind me," Ginny groaned.

"Come on," Hermione bit into her kidney pie. "You've just got great news! Let's not let him spoil it."

"He's not," she replied. "I guess I'm just lonely. Usually I'd be telling my brothers but none of them are here anymore."

"So this isn't about Harry?" Hermione asked. "And Leanne?"

"Maybe just a little," Ginny replied, "but it's mostly about my family. I guess I'm starting to regret returning to Hogwarts. It's not like you need to know charms to ride a broom and score goals. I could be with George now, helping him in the shops until the season starts."

"But isn't school how they saw you play?" Hermione reminded her.

"That's true," Ginny sighed, unsure of why she was suddenly overcome with grief, "but I think I'll head upstairs early."

Hermione understood the need to be alone. Their final year at Hogwarts was a difficult one, and quite lonely. Despite the triumph at the end of the war, everything was so different and it took some getting used to navigating the halls without their closest friends at their side.


	12. April 1 1999

It was after midnight when George locked up the till and scooped the day's earnings into a canvas satchel. He put a concealment charm on the pouch and headed toward Gringotts. The streets were deserted but he loved walking in the cold night air. As he approached the marble building, he saw a single candle flickering inside. As usual, Nodruk was waiting for him to arrive.

George tipped his hat as he entered. The sleepy guards heaved a sigh of relief knowing they would soon be heading home. This was George's routine every night. Back when Fred was alive, they would arrive during the day, each taking a turn, but now that he ran the shop alone, he was entrusted to do it all himself. Of course, he paid the guards and goblin handsomely for the luxury of entering his vault in the late hours of night. It helped that Bill and Fleur were on friendly terms with the goblins.

"Evening," he told Nodruk.

"Mr. Weasley," Nodruk smiled, as much as a goblin could smile.

George followed him into the hallway where they took a cart down to his vault #401. He and Fred had chosen it as it represented their comical birthday. Nodruk stopped the cart in front of the vault and waited for George to sort the days earnings. He stacked the coins in their respective piles leaving a galleon and a dozen sickles for himself which he pocketed before locking the vault once again. Nodruk took him back to the surface and they said their goodbyes before the goblin locked the front doors.

George glanced at his watch. It was just after midnight. He considered stopping into the Leaky Cauldron for a drink but thought better of it. He couldn't bear to be alone considering the circumstances, but spending the night with intoxicated goblins and wizards was no better. So he headed back to the shop. He grabbed his key and approached the door leading to the flat only to find a hooded figure huddled in the corner.

"Angelina?" he asked recognizing her long braided hair.

"Hi," she smiled and held up a bottle of Elderflower Wine. "Twenty-one, right?"

He winced. He was entering his third decade without Fred and he was dreading it. The next twenty-four hours only served as a haunting memory of all the ways they had spent their birthdays playing practical jokes on Peeves and taunting their brothers.

"Not tonight Angie," he sighed.

"One drink," she pleaded. "It will help you sleep. Just one and I promise I'll go."

"Alright," he shrugged letting her inside.

She followed him up the four flights of stairs until they were standing on the landing overlooking the dark joke shop. She hadn't been in since Fred was still alive. Standing in the shadows of the shop reminded her of what George must feel ever day.

"Coming?" George called out from inside the flat.

Angelina shook her head and followed him into the sparse room. George pointed his wand at the fireplace and wordlessly warmed the room with flames. Then he conjured two glasses. She uncorked the wine and poured each glass until it was full to the brim, leaving only drops in the bottle.

"One drink, aye?" George laughed.

"Just one," she winked.

"You're not good for me," he said, taking a swig.

"Hey," she nudged him, "how are you doing?"

"I wish people would stop asking me that," he replied.

"I didn't mean anything by it," she assured him. "I just haven't seen you in a minute. I want to know you're well."

"Let's talk about you," he changed the subject. "Quidditch world treating you well?"

"I wouldn't say I'm in the Quidditch world," she huffed. "I'm a healer. But I'll admit, I'd rather the pitch to being yelled at by Smethwyck."

"You should come by more," he told her. "You're off in the summers, no?"

"I am," she smiled. "Maybe I'll pop in sometime."

"I'd like that," he told her. "I could use another familiar face every once in a while."

Angelina noticed his eyes getting sleepy as he finished off his wine. She dug into her pocket and pulled out a small white box. Using her wand, she enlarged it to the correct size and opened the cardboard covering to reveal a small cake in the shape of a galleon.

"Happy birthday," she smiled.

"Is that meant to be a joke?" he chuckled.

"See," she pointed, "you're smiling."

"Maybe it will be a happy birthday after all," he replied. "I'll get the forks."

Angelina nodded and finished off her wine while George stood up and headed for the kitchen. He finally found two clean forks but when he returned to the sofa, Angelina was snoring softly. He let out a soft chuckle and lifted her up into his arms. Then he carried her into the bedroom and laid her down on the bed. He removed her shoes and covered her with the blanket before turning away.

"Hey," she reached out and tugged his jumper. "Stay with me?"

"Erm...yeah, of course," he breathed.

George kicked off his own shoes and laid down on the bed next to her, careful to stay above the covers. He magicked the lights off and quickly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

George felt the weight in the bed shift and rubbed his eyes open. He saw Angelina huddled over his bed side cabinet jotting something quickly on a piece of parchment. She put the quill down and slipped her shoes back on. She was practically in the doorway when George regained his ability to speak.

"Ange?" he whispered.

"Oh right, hey," she crouched over him. "Sorry, but I've got to go."

"Oh right," he nodded.

"Happy birthday George," she smiled.

Then she kissed his forehead and apparated out of the room with a quiet pop. George glanced at his wristwatch. It was still early. The shop wasn't due to open for a few hours. Then he leaned back against his pillow and stared at the ceiling.

"Happy birthday Fred," he sighed. "To twenty-one."

* * *

**Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has been keeping up with this story. I hope you've liked it so far. This was my favorite chapter to write because I have a soft spot for Angelina and George so I hope I did their story justice. For those of you wondering, the next chapter is the 1 year anniversary of the war.  
**


	13. May 2 1999

The sun shone brightly over the Hogwarts castle despite the grim memory of this day. The students, dressed in their neatest robes, filed suit into the Great Hall where a dozen guests were sitting alongside Professor McGonagall and the other staff members. When they had all taken their seats, the headmistress cleared her throat loudly.

"As many of you know," she announced, "today marks the anniversary of the night He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was slain. We have many witches and wizards to thank for his downfall. Unfortunately, quite a few of them did not survive that night. And today, we remember their accomplishments."

"I thank you for your patience during this year as we have spent a good deal of time repairing the castle. You've likely seen a few additions made to memorialize the fallen. Today we dedicate a memorial as a reminder of those who lost their lives protecting this castle. But first, some words from Harry Potter.

Harry would always consider Hogwarts his first home, but he didn't get the same sense of fascination when he walked through these haunted halls. In the eight years since he had begun his education, he had explored nearly every corridor and discovered many of the secrets the castle had to offer. He no longer ached to to know the truth, he had learned more truths in his lifetime than he could stomach. In an effort to convey his feelings about the castle and his experience at Hogwarts, he had accepted McGonagall's offer to speak today.

"I vividly remember the first time I saw Hogwarts. I was across the lake with the other first years. Hagrid loaded us into the boats," he took a moment to nod toward the large grizzly man sitting to his left. "And I had never seen something so remarkable. This place, for many of us, it's the only home we've ever come to know."

"My fate was sealed by a crystal ball. There's nothing special about me aside from the fact that the most powerful dark wizard of all time wanted me dead in order to preserve his legacy. I was fighting for my life, but I had so much help, more than I deserved really."

For a moment, his thoughts drifted toward the man who had briefly held McGonagall's place before her. Snape, despite his unhealthy obsession with Lily Evans, had made a genuine effort to protect Harry, saving his life on multiple occasions. He regretted never thanking him.

"What I'm trying to say is that everything I hope none of you every face the type of dark times that we've finally put behind us, but if you do, I know you will have the knowledge and the talent to do so, because you were educated here at Hogwarts. I am in no way more capable than anyone else in this room and I want to encourage you all to find your talents while you're at this school.

"And before I go, I want to offer my condolences to anyone who lost a loved one during the war. The lives of those who were lost trying to protect our future will always be remembered as talented and valiant soldiers but more importantly, we will remember their kind words, loving thoughts, and happy memories.

On that note, Harry tipped his hat toward the crowd and returned to his seat between Hagrid and Arthur Weasley, who gave him a comforting pat on the back. He paid little attention as Kingsley Shacklebolt took the stage and announced his plans to expand ministry employment to Hogwarts graduates.

Harry was more interested in what was happening at the table in front of him. Ginny was sitting with the rest of the Weasleys. Hermione sat next to her with her head resting on Ron's shoulder. George tapped his foot under the table while Molly held his hand. Percy was there also. Silent tears streamed from his eyes, Harry suspected he and Fred had never properly made up before his death. Then there was Bill, the scars had faded but his face was still badly mangled. He had his arm around Fleur who was weeping into his chest. Even Charlie had wrenched himself away from the dragons to attend.

He recognized many other faces in the crowd. Ministry employees and members of the DA had arrived with their families. Not to mention the family members of others like Fred who were lost that fateful night. But his attention was captivated by Ginny. The last few months without her had been horrible, but he had Leanne to think about. Rita Skeeter could probably write a book on all the women he had allegedly scorned. He just needed a way to let Leanne down easily.

Harry was deep in thought when Hagrid jerked him awake. McGonagall addressed the crowd a final time and then lifted her wand in the air. The walls in the Great Hall receded to create just over fifty alcoves. From the end of McGonagall's wand gold sparks soared into the air depicting the image of one of the fallen. Eventually each set of sparks settled into one of the alcoves before transforming into a solid statue of gold.

There had been a lengthy discussion over the decision to install a memorial at Hogwarts. Initially, paintings were considered but as many of them had died young, there were not enough images to recreate their portraits. After dozens of ideas were thrown about, they finally settled on statues. The decision to erect them in the Great Hall was made in reverence to the room serving as the heart of the school, a protector to those who survived, and a symbol of what those who lost their lives were protecting.

When the induction ceremony was over, the younger students hopped up and skipped back to their common rooms leaving the visiting adults to mingle. Harry stood up and practically ran toward where the entire Weasley family stood at the foot of Fred's statue. He was smiling, they had made sure of that. Ginny, who had always been close to him, had her head buried in Charlie's chest. It took everything in Harry not to run to her side.

"Dear," Molly hugged him tightly. "You had the kindest words to say."

"Er...thanks," he replied.

He wasn't sure he felt the same way. He was horrible with speeches unless someone's life was in peril. Kindly, he excused himself and wandered past the rest of the statues, shopping short at the foot of a golden effigy in the likeness of Colin Creevey. He even had a camera hanging around his neck.

"Harry!" he turned around to find Dennis Creevey standing behind him.

"Hey Dennis!" Harry hugged him. He was practically grown up.

"I'm surprised you're not surrounded by your usual swarm of fans," Creevey teased.

"I gave them the day off," Harry joked. He turned back toward the statue. "You should be proud of him."

"I am," Dennis felt a tear stream down his face. "Big shoes to fill."

"I'm sure you'll do great things," Harry assured him. "Maybe when you're done with Hogwarts you'll pay me a visit at the Ministry?"

"I'd like that," Dennis replied. He saw someone approaching and turned to go. "I better get back."

Harry waved and felt a hand resting on his shoulder. When he turned around he saw Hermione ready to embrace him in a warm hug.

"You were wonderful," she whispered. "Everything you said was perfect."

"Thank you," he replied.

He squeezed her tightly and took his time before letting her go. No matter what, Ron and Hermione would always be there for him, his best mates.

* * *

**I hate sappiness so hopefully I did it justice. Stay tuned for the next chapter featuring the wedding of two beloved characters! As a side note, I am contemplating including an excerpt of the upcoming chapter to give you a taste of what's coming next but I'm not sure if that would ruin the pacing of the story so drop me a line if you have an opinion on the matter. Thanks for reading!  
**


	14. June 19 1999

The garden of the Wood estate was in full bloom on a warm day in July. Flowers and ivy rose up from the ground in beautiful towers of shrubbery. Hundreds of witches and wizards came out in their most expensive and luxurious robes. It was the first big wedding since the end of the war. Everyone was determined to have a fantastic time.

Harry wasn't part of the festivities, at least not yet. He was housed up in the guest bedroom with Oliver trying to prepare the groom for the most important day of his life. Well, actually Charlie was doing most of the preparing. He was best man after all, his friendship with Oliver leading back to his days as Quidditch captain for Gryffindor.

"She looks beautiful," George said running in the room and closing the door behind him.

"How do you know?" Oliver asked.

"Ginny let me peek," he smiled.

There was a tap on the door and then Angelina poked her head in.

"Everyone decent?" she teased. "At least there's nothing I haven't seen before. Used to share changing rooms with most of you lot."

"What is it?" George asked her.

"It's time," she explained. "We're all meeting downstairs in the hall. Line up like you were told."

"Right now?" Oliver's face was suddenly drained of color.

"Take your time," she laughed. "But right now would be nice. And no peeking. We already put a concealment spell on the bride."

Angelina then disappeared out of the room.

"You said you saw her," Oliver accused George.

"Just trying to cheer you up, mate," he replied. "They won't let me anywhere near there."

They all laughed and piled out of the bedroom. Oliver stood in the back with his mother. Charlie in front of him escorting Demelza Robins, a last minute pick from the bride's party due to Alicia Spinnet's absence. Next were George and Angelina who were already bickering and tugging at each other's fancy dress robes.

Harry linked arms with Leanne in front of them. She batted her eyelashes and he kissed her quickly. Initially he had been concerned about being in the wedding party with his girlfriend. Despite his limited knowledge in the world of dating and relationships, Harry was still fully aware of the repercussion of being a girl's date to a wedding, especially when they were both party of the wedding party. He only hoped she wouldn't start getting ideas of her own wedding.

In front of Harry, Ginny linked arms with Benjy Williams, a Puddlemore player from Oliver's squad. Even though they were no longer together, Harry still cared for her and it made him just the tiniest bit jealous to see her linked arms with another, even if they were just doing it symbolically for their friends' wedding.

"Harry," Ginny had turned around and was looking at him sternly.

"Yes?" he replied dreamily.

"You're standing on my dress," she scolded him.

"Er, right, sorry," he stepped aside.

Harry could feel the jealousy emanating from Leanne's face. She squeezed his arm tighter and without warning, pulled his face toward hers leaving a sloppy wet kiss on his mouth. Harry rolled his eyes. He hated the games women played, but he knew Leanne would have a spat if he wiped his face.

Finally, the tiny witch, although she was more like a fairy, who had helped plan the event steered them all toward the altar. They passed the rows of wizards trying to get a good look at the procession and then stood on either side of the small tufty-haired wizard who presided over the ceremony.

After Oliver took his place under the garland, Katie walked down the aisle in a beautiful white dress accompanied by her father. He gave her away and then took his seat with the rest of the guests.

Harry knew this was a happy day for Oliver and Katie but he felt like time was passing at an alarmingly slow pace. Not even five minutes in he saw George and Angelina making faces at each other from opposite sides of the ceremony. He noticed Oliver had seen it too as he was struggling to keep his composure during the vows.

Finally, the officiant pronounced them man and wife and the festivities began. Leanne sidled up to Harry and they found their seats at a long rectangular table.

"You know," she nudged him, "that will be us one day."

"Er...yeah," Harry winced. He wasn't convinced that he would ever settle down with Leanne, but he didn't quite know how to tell her that yet.

"Hey," she pointed at Ginny who was deep in conversation with Benjy. "Are they together?"

"I'm not sure," Harry replied, once again the sting of jealousy in his throat.

"Harry!" Hermione plopped down in the seat next to him. "Have you seen Ron?"

"Last I saw," Harry told her, "he was trying to get an autograph from Galvin Gudgeon."

"Who?" Hermione asked.

"He's a Seeker for the Chudley Cannons," Harry explained. "Wood invited him and Ron's been chasing him down since before the ceremony."

"I'll just let him tire himself out," Hermione said, as if she were describing a pet. Then she turned her attention to Ginny who was now dancing with Benji. "They look happy."

"Er...yeah," Harry said icily.

"Oh sorry Harry," Hermione said quickly. "I shouldn't have..."

"No, it's okay," he did his best to persuade Leanne. "That was a long time ago."

"Well, I best go find Ron," Hermione stood up, "before he makes a fool of himself."

Harry watched her go and turned his attention back to Leanne. He gave her a sweet kiss, anything to keep her happy, and she took his hand.

"Come on," she urged him up. "Let's dance."

"I don't really..." he began but it was in vain.

Leanne dragged him toward the empty space under the delicate white tent. She looped her arms around his neck and they swayed to the sounds of the harp player. Harry couldn't help but glance in the direction of Ginny and Benji. They were the only other people dancing this early in the ceremony.

"Are things really over between you two?" Leanne asked.

"Er...sorry?" Harry asked.

"Don't lie to me," she replied. "Do you still love her?"

"She's my best mate's sister," Harry explained. "I'll always love her."

"I know you care for her," Leanne replied. "I was there when the chamber was opened. But I want to know if I have a chance."

"Hey," he pulled her close and kissed her deeply. "I'm with you, aren't I?"

That seemed to satisfy her enough. It wasn't long before dinner was served and a round of speeches were made. First Katie's dad, then Oliver's, followed by Charlie and Angelina who had each done a mediocre of planning what they were going to say.

Once that was over, the party really started. The food was cleared, presumably the work of house elves, and couples quickly took their place on the dance floor as a Weird Sisters song began.

Ron must have been practicing his dance steps with Neville as he was gracefully spinning Hermione around in circles. Nearly everyone watched in awe. Harry, on the other hand, could hardly keep a beat. And then of course there was George who couldn't be bothered. Everyone made sure to give him space every time he asked another girl to be his partner. He was definitely an enthusiastic dancer.

Finally, the floor cleared and Mr. Wood announced it was time for a special dance, just the happy couple. George rolled his eyes. He hated these types of formalities. He tapped Angelina's leg under the table and opened his palm so she could see the vial of shimmering dust in his hand.

"Where did you get that?" she asked.

"Do you want it or not?" he whispered. She nodded. "Wait a minute, and then meet me in the kitchen."

Angelina smiled and watched him go. She waited a bit and then stood up herself, following George into the main house. She saw him sitting on the counter with the small vial in his hand and hopped up next to him.

"Ramora scales?" she laughed. "You can't find these anywhere with the anti-poaching laws."

"Charlie got it for me," he explained. "Loads of ramoras washed up ashore in Romania last year. He just picked up the scales. No poaching."

"I've never done this before," she breathed.

"First time for everything," he laughed.

He uncorked the vial and inhaled just a tiny bit. Immediately he felt the effect. He hovered just a tiny bit into the air feeling absolutely weightless. When the initial high wore off, he stepped down onto the solid floor so he was standing opposite Angelina.

"Here," he brought the vial to her nose. "Just inhale a little. See how you like it."

She did as told but in her enthusiasm she may have taken too much. In seconds she felt herself rise nearly a foot into the air. Then she burst into a fit of giggles.

"George!" she shrieked. "Get me down."

"It's okay," he told her. "You took too much. Just hold my hand and close your eyes."

George reached for her hand and she shut her eyes quickly as soon as she felt his warm touch. But instead of descending, she shot further into the air.

"I'm too high!" she opened her eyes. "Get me down!"

He suppressed the urge to laugh and held her hand tightly before reaching up to grab her waist. Then he pulled her down from the rafters and held her close to him so she wouldn't get away again.

"It's okay," he told her. "I've got you."

"Thanks," she laughed.

"I forgot to tell you," he explained, "it's most effective the first time."

"Couldn't have filled me in earlier?" she laughed.

George smiled, he loosened the grip around her waist and she instantly floated into the air. Angelina panicked and hooked an arm around his neck, the other across his back.

"Sorry," he told her sincerely. "I thought it would have worn off by now."

"So I guess, we just," she sighed, "stay here like this?"

"I guess so," he nodded.

He readjusted his grip closing any space that was left between them. Angelina smiled, she was starting to feel the effect of the scales and felt just as weightless on the inside as she did on the outside. But the fear of rising back up toward the ceiling still kept her clinging to George's coat.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

"A bit," she pursed her lips together. "Thanks for sharing."

Angelina couldn't explain what happened next. Maybe it was the magical effect of the scales or maybe she had been served too much champagne at the wedding. Whatever the reason, she felt something pull her toward George. She moved her hand so it was plastered to the nape of his neck and brought his lips to hers. He didn't back away. Instead, he kissed her back.

"Hey," she pulled away for a second. "Let's get out of here."

"Upstairs," he hoisted her into his arms.

"No," she breathed. "Let's go to yours?"

George nodded. He held out his arm and she grab ahold of it. With a pop they had left the Wood estate and were standing in the living room of George's flat. He kept one arm tightly around Angelina's waist, despite the physical effects of the scales had worn off, and lit the fireplace with his wand.

"So," she turned to him, "where were we?"

He smirked. His lips were on hers once again as he pressed her against the wall. She wrapped her leg around his waist and he lifted her up, carrying her into the bedroom before laying her on the bed. He shrugged off his dress robes as Angelina unbuttoned his shirt. Then he tugged at the bodice on her taffeta gown.

"Wait," she stood up and turned so her back was facing him. "This is easier."

George smiled as he unzipped her dress revealing the taut muscles of her back. She stepped out of the gown wearing only a pair of lace knickers and stockings. He drew his breath in as she turned around.

"We don't have to do this," he said slowly.

"No," she smiled. "I want to."

* * *

**This was a very fun chapter to write so I hope you liked it! Based on the feedback I got, I won't be including a preview of the next chapter but I'm curious to know if you still want me to hint at what's coming next (i.e. characters or events in the next one shot). Anyhow, keep me posted and thanks for reading!  
**


	15. July 11 1999

**Here it is! The chapter you've all been waiting for. Enjoy :)**

* * *

The sun streamed in through the cream curtains that Hermione had hung in her new bedroom. Her trunk lay open at the foot of her bed with leather bound books nearly spilling out. She had installed bookshelves along one entire wall and was slowly organizing her small library by alphabetical order.

"Hermione," Ron knocked on her open door. "Need any help?"

"I think I've got it," she replied.

"Oh Hermione," he pointed his wand and the books instantly lined up on the shelves. "I thought you would have figured this out by now."

"But I want them in order!" she protested.

With a quick glance she realized he had organized them even better than she could doing it the muggle way. A reluctant smile spread across her face.

"Where did you learn that?" she asked.

"I'm an auror now," he replied.

"Auror in training," she reminded him.

"You know what I mean," he rolled his eyes.

"Well," she lay back against the pillows, "that's it then. I'm all moved in."

"How are we going to do this?" he plopped down next to her. "You and I under the same roof. I'll be just a few feet away when you can't sleep at night."

"We've lived in the same house before," she reminded him. "How many times have I stayed at The Burrow in the summers?"

"But this is different," he reminded her. "My mum isn't around. No older brothers, although Ginny spends an extraordinary amount of time here."

Almost as if on cue, Ginny poked her head in the room.

"It looks good," she smiled. "Cozy."

She wedged the happy couple apart and giddily hopped onto the bed. Ron rolled his eyes as Hermione made room for her.

"What are you doing here?" he asked annoyed.

"Gwenog and Valmai are on vacation," Ginny explained. "Angelina is training at St. Mungo's. I just didn't want to be alone."

"Since you're here," Hermione smiled, "we could do a little shopping."

Ron groaned.

"You don't have to come," Ginny playfully hit him over the head with a pillow.

"Okay play nice, you two," Hermione warned them. "Is there anything we can all do?"

"We could go into Diagon Alley," she chimed in, "visit George at the shop. Are Harry and Neville around?"

"Harry's here," Hermione explained, "but I don't think he'll want to go with us."

"You mean," Ron interrupted, "you don't think his warden will let him go."

"Don't call her a warden," Hermione said through gritted teeth.

Ginny was quiet for a minute. She kicked herself for thinking that Harry would drop everything as soon as she finished school. Of course, Rita was waiting for any chance to paint Harry as a villain, making him out as a womanizer was exactly the dirt this ruthless reporter was looking for.

But still, Ginny couldn't help but feel jealous of Leanne. She had left the door wide open for any girl to barge right in. And now she missed Harry more than ever. This was different than when he had ended things to save her in a valiant effort to be a hero, or the times they had been apart because he was risking his life to save their world. This time, she had let him go. It was entirely her fault that he was downstairs snogging someone else. Maybe she should have taken up Benji's invitation to dinner. Anything to keep her mind off of Harry.

"Hey," Hermione nudged her. "What are you thinking?"

"Come on!" Ginny jumped up. "Let's do something. We can take the broomsticks out or go to The Burrow. I don't want to be cooped up in here all day."

Begrudgingly Ron stood up and helped the two girls to their feet. They agreed to head to The Leaky Cauldron and found Hannah there who instantly poured them each a tankard of butterbeer.

"So," Ron sipped his drink, "is this what you had planned for today?"

"This is fine," Ginny replied. "I only have a few days before I need to report to the pitch. I don't want to spend them wasting away."

"You're playing Quidditch professionally," Ron reminded her. "It's hardly work."

"Sorry I'm not saving the world," she told Ron. "Not everyone needs to make a difference all the time."

"I didn't mean it like that," he replied. "I'm happy for you. Really."

"Thanks," she smiled.

"We're all proud of you Gin," Hermione piped in. "We just want you to be happy."

"I am," she smiled. "I never thought I'd get a chance to play Quidditch professionally, especially with Umbridge taking over and everything that happened last year."

"Things are better now," Ron assured her. "We're allowed to be happy."

Their conversation was stopped short when Hannah came over with another round they hadn't ordered.

"To celebrate," Hannah told them. "I heard about the Harpies, Ginny. Good for you!"

"Thank you," Ginny smiled. "Is it too much to ask that you sit with us for a round?"

"I can't today," Hannah replied, "but maybe another time. Maybe I can catch one of your games."

"I would love that," Ginny told her. "I'll send you tickets."

The waitress smiled and retreated back behind the bar while they finished their drinks. When they were done, Ron left a few coins on the table and they stopped by Flourish & Blotts so Hermione could scavenge for new books. Meanwhile, Ginny stopped into Quality Quidditch Supplies for some new training robes. When she was done, she found Hermione carrying two canvas bags brimming with books. Then they found Ron wandering the aisled of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"You're here!" Ron smiled when he saw them.

"Come on," Ginny told him. "Let's head back."

She was stopped short when George leaned against the doorway, blocking their exit.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked. "You haven't even tested my new sweets."

"I won't fall for that again," Ron smirked.

"It's good to see you," Hermione smiled. "Don't be a stranger."

"Well, you know," he shrugged off her invitation, "it gets busy at the shop."

"I know," she smiled. "If you ever need anything..."

"Thanks Hermione," he replied.

The two had never been close in school, but she was practically his sister-in-law, part of the family, and Hermione had always been kind to him despite not always agreeing with his business practices. He knew she was just being protective.

"We best get back," Ron said. "Luna is making dinner. Don't want to be late."

"You're welcome to join us," Hermione told George.

"I'll be here late," he replied.

They said their goodbyes and the trio skipped back toward The Stag. A warm inviting aroma filled the air as they climbed the steps to the first floor where they found Neville slicing beets and Harry grinding garlic in the kitchen while Luna stirred a pot that was nearly as large as her.

"What's for dinner?" Hermione asked.

"Mungbean chili," Luna replied.

"Can I help?" Hermione offered.

"I think we have it covered," Luna smiled. "Maybe you all could set the table."

Hermione did as told and grabbed some dishes from a cabinet. Harry handed Luna the plate of garlic and then turned to Ginny. They had hardly spoken in months but both were too prideful to admit they hated the silence.

"Hey," he smiled at her. "I heard about the Harpies. Congratulations."

"Thank you," she replied. "I'll be sure to send you and Ron some tickets when we play the Cannons."

"He'll appreciate that," Harry smiled.

He wanted so badly to reach out and hug her, give her a proper greeting, but things were different now between them. Of course, he had to consider Leanne's feelings, at least until he found a way to ween her off of him. But he also worried that if he hugged Ginny, touched her in even the slightest way, he might never let go.

"Wow," Leanne said, snapping Harry's attention back. "Didn't know we were having a party."

"We?" Hermione mouthed to Ron. He shrugged.

"Dinner's ready!" Luna announced.

The prospect of a warm meal helped diffuse the tension and everyone helped carry dishes and silverware into the dining room. It seemed appropriate to eat at the formal table considering the size of their dinner party. Ginny found herself in a peculiar situation when she and Harry were seated next to each other by chance. Dinner was just underway when they accidentally knocked hands reaching for the pitcher of pumpkin juice.

"Sorry," they said at the same time pulling their hands away.

Then Harry grabbed the pitcher and filled her glass, emptying the caraffe.

"Thank you," she smiled.

"I'll go get more," he stood up and went into the kitchen.

"Excuse me," Leanne stood up to follow him.

The rest of them returned to their dinner but they could hear the angry whispers coming from the kitchen. Neville, who was seated closest, made out a few phrases. Ron's mouth dropped open and he winked at Hermione. None of them disliked Leanne, but they didn't like her relationship with Harry. Hermione was reminded of the days when Ron was with Lavender Brown, she wasn't particularly awful, but she didn't pair well with their friend.

"We're done Harry Potter!" Leanne said finally.

They watched her grab her coat and storm. A few seconds later Harry emerged with a full pitched of pumpkin juice and a half-grin plastered on his face. Ginny couldn't help herself, but she was smiling too.

* * *

**Things with Leanne are over so I hope you liked this chapter. Plenty more is coming and the next chapter is a peek at Bill and Fleur's life  
**


	16. August 1 1999

The water lapped along the shoreline, the tide rising slowly, as Fleur laid on her back taking in the sun. Next to her, Bill absentmindedly stroked her long slender legs as he read _The Daily Prophet_. It was a rare opportunity for both of them to have the day off, but slowly the wizarding world was repaired and their jobs became less demanding.

She shielded her eyes from the beating sun and looked at Bill. Living by the sea had warmed his complexion and he now sported a slight tan that complimented his shaggy red hair.

"I could stay here forever," she whispered in her heavy French accent.

"Is it better than France?" he teased.

"Much better," she smiled.

Fleur rolled over and began drawing shapes in the sand. Bill put down his paper and laid down next to her, his fingers tracing the shapes she had made.

"Darling," he kissed her shoulder, "you're happy here right?"

"Of course, love," she replied. "But I do miss my family. Little Gabrielle has probably grown so much now."

"Well," he took her hand, "I was thinking we could visit them. I've got some time next month."

"Really?" she sat up. "We could go to Paris?"

"Yeah," he smiled.

"Bill dear!" she kissed his cheek. "I adore you."

As she spoke the words, waves washed over them and she squealed. Bill laughed and lifted her into his arms to protect her from the frigid water.

"It's freezing!" she shivered clinging to his neck.

"It will be fine," he said as the waves overtook the beach, "you just have to get used to it."

Without warning, he dropped her into the shallow water, before diving under the waves. When he resurfaced, Fleur splashed him with freezing water in retaliation.

"I can't believe you!" she said, her teeth chattering. "I'm in my clothes."

"I'm sorry," he replied. "I couldn't resist."

"I'm going inside!" she said running back toward Shell Cottage.

Bill laughed and followed her. When they were back inside, he lit a fire and ran a bath with plenty of bubbles, the way Fleur liked.

"Darling!" he called out.

He finally found her in the bedroom stripping off her damp clothes. She glowered at him until he lifted her into his arms and dragged her toward the tub.

"Extra bubbles," he said placing her back on the ground.

"I think I can forgive you now," she replied. Then she motioned for him to turn around. "No looking."

Bill laughed and left the room to change out of his own wet clothes. He loved the way Fleur was still modest despite nearly two years of marriage. He almost feared the day when they finally learned everything about each other. It frightened him that they might grow complacent.

"Bill!" he heard Fleur call out for him.

"Darling," he leaned in the doorway.

"Hand me a towel, please?" she asked.

He grabbed her robe from the linen cupboard and held it out for her. Still covered in bubbles, Fleur slid into the terry robe. She turned around and kissed Bill, then pulled away.

"Thank you," she breathed, "for today."

"I thought you'd be mad," he smirked.

"I was," she replied. "For a bit."

Then she elegantly strode past him into the next room. Bill ran down the steps to the kitchen, where a fire warmed the room. He put the kettle on and by the time he was brewing the tea, Fleur had hopped onto the counter wearing a silk camisole and a cashmere sweater.

"Tea?" he offered her a cup.

"Thank you," she smiled, sipping it eagerly. "Oh! Hot."

Bill opened a drawer and pulled out a milky white sweet which he handed to Fleur.

"Here," he said. "Try this. My brother was working on it before..."

He couldn't finish. Even after a year, Fred's death still haunted him, as it did everyone else in his family. There were memories of him everywhere, which Bill often found comforting, but not without the initial sting of remembering his brother's absence.

"It's okay," Fleur took his hand, the lozenge completely forgotten.

"Sorry," he shook his head. "Sometimes I just..."

"I know," she kissed him.

Fleur hopped off the counter and wrapped her arms around his waist, clinging tightly. Bill stroked her hair gently as he fought back the tears. Bill was usually so strong, being the oldest of seven children did that to a man, but there were intimate moments only Fleur was privy to.

"I love you," he whispered.

"And I love you," she echoed.

Fleur ran her fingers along the scars that marked his cheek. Bill once shuddered at the thought of his disfigured mug, but Fleur embraced him completely. His scars quickly became her favorite part about him. It reminded her of his bravery and courage, his fight for a better future. He was exactly the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

"You know," Bill said finally composing himself, "today is a special day."

"What's that?" she asked.

"Our anniversary," he replied. "We got married, three years ago today."

"I know," she smiled. "I was waiting for you to remember."

"I got you something," he told her.

Bill opened a drawer and pulled out a tiny pink parcel. He handed it to her and she opened it with bated breath. Inside was a brown leather thread strung through a stone that glowed a fiery yellow. Fleur's mouth dropped open when she saw it.

"It's beautiful," she smiled.

She handed it to him and turned around so he could fasten it around her neck, which he did eagerly. When she faced him once again, the crystal rock illuminated her face.

"It's a moonstone," he explained. "Like the ones you wore on our wedding day."

"I love it!" she kissed his cheek. "And there is something I have for you."

"What's that?" he asked.

"You'll see," she bit her lip, "if you follow me upstairs."

Fleur slipped off her cardigan, dropping it on the ground as she tiptoed up the stairs. Bill followed eagerly, his eyes widening each time she lost another layer of clothing until he was standing in the hallway to their bedroom. Fleur propped herself on the bed with only a sheer scarf as covering. Bill didn't waste a second.


	17. September 4 1999

Ginny splashed cold water on her face in an attempt to calm her nerves before the home match against the Falmouth Falcons. Angelina had suggested it but it didn't help. She wiped her brow and looked at her reflection in the mirror. Suddenly she was plagued by the reality that she would have to face the stands of Harpies fans and perform for them.

As a rookie on the team, she had never expected to play. She was just happy to be playing Quidditch for a living. She fully intended to work her way up the ladder and win Gwnedolyn's favor. But fate intervened and after the starting Chaser was injured, Ginny was pulled up the ranks. She shouldn't have even been the first pick. Three other Chasers had been on the time for much longer, but Gwendolyn insisted. Ginny outperformed them during their training season and she was chosen to fill the empty spot. Initially Ginny had been ecstatic but now, just the thought of playing Quidditch made her feel ill.

Her biggest worry was that her luck would run out in this game. She had hardly struggled during the last few months. First Angelina had practically handed her the job by whispering in Gwendolyn's ear. Conveniently enough, Angelina was also looking for another person to move into her room in the flat she shared with Gwenog Jones and Valmai Morgan. Ginny happily took the extra space, allowing her less stress as she looked for a place to live. She had always been told that good things come in threes and her third stroke of fortune was witnessing Harry's breakup with Leanne just weeks ago. Her biggest fear was disappointing her team in this match.

"Gin!" Valmai, an olive-skinned Chaser with wavy sun-kissed hair, stood in the doorway.

"Hey, sorry," Ginny tried to regain her composure.

"It's alright," Valmai told her. "I remember my first match."

She squeezed Ginny's hand tightly and led her out into the changing room where they could hear the crowd screaming in the stadium's seats. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, willing herself to be brave.

Unbeknownst to Ginny, Angelina had made sure her family was sitting in the stands high above her. The team's healer had stopped into George's joke shop and presented him with six tickets, making him promise that he would bring her family. She knew Ginny was nervous about her first match, so she kept it a secret knowing she would be happy to see them once the match was over.

High up in the air, practically level with the six hoops, George sat in the box with his brother Ron, who wore green and yellow robes for the first time in his life. Harry sat on his left waving a green and yellow banner. Behind them Arthur, Molly and Charlie sat eagerly waiting Ginny's debut.

A sudden fanfare quieted the crowd and the teams were introduced. Harry smiled when he saw Ginny soaring through the air to take her place next to the other Chasers on the Harpies. He was starring off dreamily at her when Ron nudged him in the ribs and pointed to a blonde witch sitting a few boxes away. A notepad floated in front of her and a quill jotted down her notes as she spoke. Harry let out a defeated sigh when he recognized Rita Skeeter. With the ministry finally cohesive once again, news was slow and there was no doubt in his mind that Rita was commenting on his failed relationship with Leanne in conjunction with his subsequent presence at Ginny's first professional match.

But he had come a long way since then. Rita's interest in defiling his name in the papers was no longer his concern. He had stared death in the face and come back to tell the tale. Dealing with Rita was like swatting at a persistent gnat. Sometimes he wondered why she had chosen a lady bug when her personality was more in tune with a different type of insect. Besides, he was more interested in watching Ginny's first game.

Oblivious to her family sitting in the best seats the stadium had to offer, Ginny soared through the air intercepting Quaffles from the other team. Not even an hour into the match, she had already scored seven goals. That combined with her fellow Chasers' goals brought their score to one hundred and fifty points. The Falcons trailed behind with only thirty points. Ginny knew they were the better team but if they didn't catch the Snitch, it was very possible they could lose. With that thought in mind, she circled the pitch scoring goal after goal, completely forgetting her reservations about the match earlier in the day.

Now with a one hundred and fifty point lead, Ginny saw a Bludger headed her way. She dodged it and Gwenog sent it flying in the other direction toward a Falcon's Chaser. Trying to dodge the Bludger, he lost sight of the Quaffle he was chasing and Ginny sped toward it in order to score a final goal before the Falcon's Seeker caught the Snitch.

"You did it!" Valmai said, flying past her. "We won!"

Ginny clapped a hand over her mouth in shock as she looked up into the sky where green and yellow fireworks sparked over the crowd. The seven Harpies players cheered as they settled back down on the ground, only to be swarmed by the rest of the team. Angelina kissed Ginny's cheek and pointed up toward her family sitting in the stands.

"They'll be very proud," she said.

Ginny squinted. She could vaguely make out the five Weasleys with their flaming red hair. Then she looked to the right of Ron and saw Harry beaming at her. For a second, she blushed a deep red and then turned to Angelina.

"I can't believe you," she smiled. "Thank you!"

"Oh stop," Angelina scoffed. "Let's go celebrate."

The two girls ran after the rest of the team as they headed into the changing rooms. It was clear to everyone that they had a long night of celebration ahead of them.

* * *

**I've hinted a bit at Rita Skeeter. She will definitely be up to no good in future chapters. More importantly, the next chapter is October and it will revolve around Halloween so I'm very excited for it and I'm sure you will LOVE it. If all goes well it will be up before Halloween so stay tuned and thanks for reading :)  
**


	18. October 31 1999

Harry and Hermione were in the living room stringing purple tinsel along the walls. Ron had already set up a tower of pumpkins in the corner of the drawing room. Antique brass candlesticks hovered above the dining table where Ron had placed dozens of warm dishes. He was going a bit overboard with the Hallowe'en Feast.

"Your tinsel is crooked," Hermione teased.

"Why don't you fix it then," he replied. "I can help Ron in the kitchen."

"You in the kitchen?" she scoffed. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Where's Neville?" he asked. "Have you seen him lately?"

"I think he's helping Luna with the roof decorations," Hermione replied. Then she glanced at the ripped t-shirt and jeans Harry wore. "You should probably change into something nicer. I think Ginny is coming."

She watched as a sly smile crossed Harry's face. He had been far more pleasant since Leanne had abruptly ended things between them.

"Alright," he replied. "Can you finish up here?"

"Sure," she smiled.

He hurried upstairs and she finished with the tinsel before wandering into the kitchen to find Ron up to his ears in puff pastry.

"Are you getting along okay in here?" she asked.

"Just need to take the tarts out of the over," he replied, "and wipe the egg yolk off my face before my brothers arrive."

"Can I help?" she offered.

"It's alright," he kissed her. "I'm nearly done."

Hermione disappeared up to her bedroom to get changed. Her life had been so hectic since she started working at the ministry and she hadn't had a chance to buy anything new for the party. Luckily, Luna had come to her rescue with a gorgeous red cocktail dress.

She slipped it on and then did her best to appease the frizzy ball of auburn hair that stemmed from her head. After reading every book she could find on beauty spells, she still had not found a permanent solution to the bird's nest that sat on her head. She finally gave up, applied some red lip gloss and went downstairs to find a modest party had been brewing during her absence.

"You look amazing," Ron told her.

"Thank you," she smiled. She saw a fleck of seasoning on his cheek and rubbed it off. "You have something."

"Oh right," he wiped his face with the back of his hand. "Thanks."

Ron linked arms with Hermione and whisked her toward the kitchen so they could grab drinks for their guests, leaving Harry to handle the newcomers, many of whom where friends from his Dumbledore's Army days.

"Potter!" Angelina skipped over to him when she danced out of the green flames.

"Angelina," he hugged her tightly.

"Come on now," she smiled. "Aren't you going to get me a drink?"

"Here," George seemed to appear from thin air and handed her a glass of butterbeer. Then he raised an eyebrow at Harry. "Where's my brother?"

"In the kitchen?" Harry said skeptically.

He didn't even notice when George and Angelina went in search of their friends. Instead, his eyes were locked on the scarlet-haired beauty that was stepping out of the fireplace. Ginny was wearing a black fitted cocktail dress that delicately slid off her shoulders. Harry had never seen her look more beautiful. His eyes followed her as she wandered the room greeting old friends until she finally reached him.

"Hi," he muttered, "you...er...look great."

"Thank you," she smiled.

"Can I get you something?" he offered.

"I could use a drink," she replied. "Nothing strong. I have Quidditch practice in the morning."

"Well, I'm glad you made it," he told her. "It's good to have you around."

She followed Harry into the kitchen where he poured her a glass of butterbeer.

"Thank you," she took it from him and sipped slowly. "Your place looks nice. I've never seen it like this, so crowded."

"Ron's idea," he explained.

"He loves Hallowe'en," Ginny laughed.

There was a long pause. They weren't used to this anymore. Since last summer it had all been so formal between them. Now the obstacles that kept them apart were gone.

"I..er...better get back," he explained. "We have guests."

"Right," she nodded hanging back in the kitchen while Harry disappeared.

Even as he walked away, he knew he had made a mistake. He finally had Ginny within arm's reach. They didn't need to resort to formalities but something about their relationship was different. He was determined to finally repair things between them before the night was over. In the meantime, he had to attend to the hundreds of witches and wizards that were due to arrive.

"'Arry!" he recognized Fleur's Parisian affectation.

"Fleur," he smiled as she threw her arms around him.

"Hi Harry," Bill shook his hand. Harry still felt a hint of fear anytime he was around Ginny's older brothers.

"Glad you made it," Harry told them. "Can I get you something? Mead, firewhiskey, butterbeer?"

"McSpratt's if you have it?" Bill said. "For both of us. And do you know if my parents are here?"

"I haven't seen them," Harry replied. "You may want to ask George."

He skipped away to find some sparkling water for the two of them and then returned to find Fleur chatting up Hermione in her native language.

"Here," he handed them each a glass.

"Thank you," Fleur said in her thick accent.

"Did you hear the news?" Hermione asked him. "Fleur and Bill are expecting."

"That's fantastic!" Harry replied. "Congratulations!"

"We wanted to tell my parents first," Bill laughed, "but Fleur can't seem to keep the news to herself. At this rate my mum will find out from her copy of _Witch Weekly_."

"Here's your chance," Harry pointed toward an older couple stepping out of the fireplace. "There they are."

"We'll keep quiet," Hermione assured them.

On that note, Fleur practically bolted for the fireplace, nearly knocking over her in-laws, while Bill followed behind her. From across the room, they could hear Molly's squeals of joy at the prospect of her first grandchild. The entire room was filled with joy as everyone congratulated the happy couple. Seeking a breath of fresh air, Harry climbed upstairs and stepped out onto the roof garden which was empty apart from Ginny who sat on a stone bench sipping a steaming mug of butterbeer.

"Did you hear the news?" he asked.

"I'm going to be an aunt," she smiled knowingly. "Fleur told me weeks ago. She can't keep a secret."

"Your mum is elated," Harry told her.

"I can only imagine," she laughed.

They shared a smile and then, almost as if on cue, Ron's radio, which had been set up in the garden, began to play _Magic Works_ by The Weird Sisters. Harry locked eyes with Ginny and grinned slightly.

"This used to be my favorite song," she breathed.

"Would you...er..." he swallowed hard. "Do you want to dance?"

"Sure," she smiled.

"I'm not very good," Harry said.

"It's alright," she smiled.

He stood up and took her hand. The too swayed to the music and he did his best not to step on her feet while she rested her head on his chest. As the song's final bars played, Ginny looked up at him, she bit her lip and Harry swore he had never been more attracted to her.

"You're amazing," he breathed.

She couldn't help herself. They had been apart for too long. Ginny stood on her tiptoes and looped her arms around his neck before meeting his lips with hers. Harry held her tightly and deepened the kiss. Their tongues smashing together as he pressed her against the window overlooking the attic. In that moment, the world fell away and it was just the two of them, until George and Angelina stepped out onto the roof clapping slowly.

"Oh, don't mind us," George teased. "We're just trying to get some fresh air."

"Merlin's beard!" Ginny pushed Harry off of her. "You frightened me!"

"Don't be cruel," Angelina warned him.

"Come on Harry," Ginny tugged at his tie. "Let's go find someplace to be alone."

Harry nodded toward George and followed Ginny, presumably down to his bedroom.

"Now you've done it," Angelina teased.

"It's just good fun," George replied. "Besides, I don't need Harry getting too comfortable. He might have defeated _the dark lord_ but he better remember what I'll do to him if he hurts my sister."

"What _will_ you do to him?" she wanted to know.

"Oh, I don't know," he sighed, "I'll probably send him a Self-Propelling Custard Pie and some Whiz-Bangs of course."

"George Weasley," she smirked, "you are so predictable."

"Really?" he sidled up close to her. "Did you predict this?"

He couldn't blame the firewhiskey this time. His actions were purely intentional. George had a hand on her waist as he kissed her lips, then her jaw, making his way toward her chest.

"Just as I thought," she breathed, "utterly predictable."


	19. November 1 1999

Ginny rolled over onto her side. She was naked apart from the red and gold sheets that adorned Harry's bed. The light was streaming in through a gap in the curtains, illuminating the discarded glass bottles from the night before. She wanted to lie there forever, just her and Harry, but she had Quidditch practice in a few hours. Gwenog would have her head if she was late.

"Gin?" Harry breathed.

"Yeah?" she lifted her head so she could meet his gaze.

"Did you get any sleep?" he asked.

"Not a wink," she replied, tracing his clavicle with her finger.

"Sorry," he smirked.

"It's alright," she kissed his cheek. "This was fun."

"Can I ask something," he sighed, "at the risk of sounding like a girl?"

Ginny nodded. She sat up against the pillows, pulling the sheets with her. Harry wondered why she insisted on staying covered, considering their activities only a few minutes prior. He tried his best to focus without getting distracted by the naked woman in his bed.

"Er...about us," he took a deep breath, "does this mean we get another chance?"

"What about Leanne?" she asked.

"You know as well as I do," he scoffed, "she'll have nothing to do with me."

They both laughed. He felt bad about how things ended with Leanne but they both knew there was no substance to that relationship.

"I guess, what I'm asking," he took her hand, "is, have you had enough time to think, to be Ginny?"

"That depends," she batted her eyelashes. "If I say no, are you going to run into the arms of the next girl that smiles at you?"

"Why would you think that?" he laughed.

"Because," she sighed. "You're Harry Potter. The Chosen One. The Boy Who Lived. Girls fawn all over you. And I'm just Ginny."

"You're not just Ginny," he kissed her hand. "You're a starting Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies. You used to have a poster of Gwenog Jones on your bedroom wall and now you share a flat with her. And, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"You really now how to make a girl feel special," she smiled.

"So," he paused, "let's give us a chance? Yeah?"

"Yeah," she breathed. "I think that could be nice."

Harry smiled. There was a delicate silence in the room as Ginny bit her lip, giving Harry her best 'come hither' look. He took the bait and leaned across the bed to kiss her. They were both under the covers once again. She giggled as Harry covered her in kisses.

"Wait! Wait!" she protested, coming up for air.

"What is it?" he groaned.

"I've really got to go," she ran around the room collecting her discarded clothing. "Quidditch practice is in a couple of hours. Gwenog's already going to have my head for not coming home last night."

"Wait," Harry threw on a pair of pants as he slid out from under the covers.

"What?" she turned to him.

Harry slid a hand around her waist and kissed her deeply. Ginny held onto the nape of his neck as she pulled him closer.

"Seriously," she finally let go. "I have to leave. Do you think Hermione could make me one of those _caffe lattes_ so I don't pass out on the pitch."

"About that," he sighed. "Make sure Ron doesn't catch you leaving."

"Are you scared of my brother?" she asked.

"Terrified," Harry replied.

Ginny laughed. She gave him one last peck on the cheek and snuck down toward the drawing room. She could see the fireplace from the hallway but she heard voices coming from the other room.

"Ginny!" she nearly jumped three feet in the air when she heard Hermione.

"Hermione!" she smiled. "You frightened me."

"Sorry," came the reply. "I didn't mean to."

"It's okay," Ginny said. "I just have to get going."

"Can I make you some breakfast?" Hermione offered.

"Uh no," Ginny said quickly. "I'm running late."

"Alright then," Hermione flashed a smile. "It's good to see you around here again."

Ginny nodded. She didn't understand why Hermione was acting so oddly until she turned the corner and found her brother Ron leaning against the fireplace with an eyebrow raised.

"Morning," she offered a weak smile.

"Where did you come from?" he asked.

"The attic," she lied. "I was too tired to floo home. Didn't want to risk it."

"Try again," he told her.

"Can we not do this right now?" she pleaded. "I'm late as it is."

"Fine," Ron shrugged, "but I'm going to have a talk with Harry about his overnight guests."

Ginny groaned and finally left The Stag by way of the fireplace, leaving Ron and Hermione to finish cleaning up the remnants of the previous night.

"You shouldn't give her a hard time," Hermione told him.

"Did you see her hair?" Ron roared. "They slept together. Right above my room. I could hear it!"

"Harry's your best mate," Hermione replied. "He's being respectful."

"Not to me!" Ron scoffed. "I had to cast a dozen silencing spells to get some sleep."

"You can't really blame them," Hermione tried to reason with him. "They're in love. It's bound to happen."

"What's bound to happen?" he asked. "Sex? Because let me remind you of someone who is not having sex."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she said icily.

"It doesn't mean anything, Hermione," he muttered. "I just...if we can live in the same house and not do it...they can..."

"Careful with your words," she told him.

Ron sighed. He knew he would never dig himself out of that mess. Instead he muttered an apology and returned to the task of cleaning the house. Hermione was fed up with cleaning and even more annoyed with Ron so she trekked up to Harry's room and knocked twice.

"Harry!" she called out.

As much as he wanted to crawl back into bed, he knew there was no turning her down. He lifted his wand to wave the door open and she stepped into his room with a determined pep in her step. Hermione took a seat at the edge of the bed and huffed loudly.

"What is it this time?" he asked.

"Do you think I'm a prude?" she sighed.

"Does it matter what I think?" he asked

"Not really," she replied. "I just can't help but wonder if I'm torturing Ron by making him wait."

"This is not a conversation I should be a part of," he told her.

"Sorry," she shook her head. "I just don't know if I'm doing the right thing. You know, I battled dark wizards and nearly lost my life. We could have died virgins, me and Ron. We still might. Who even knows –"

She paused when Harry snorted. Her eyes narrowed and he was reminded of the nights he spent in detention with Umbridge.

"What's that for?" Hermione grilled him.

"He and Lavender were..." Harry could tell this was news to Hermione. "Sorry, I thought you knew."

"Ron never told me," she breathed.

"Look," he put an arm around her shoulders, "he could have been lying. Mates do that kind of thing. He was probably trying to impress Dean and Neville."

"They know too!" Hermione was livid. "I'm gonna kill him!"

"Hermione wait!" Harry called after her.

But it was too late. She was already halfway down the stairs before he caught up. Ron could see the anger in her eyes when she appeared in the hallway.

"I can explain," he didn't even know what she wanted, but he knew he better have an explanation.

"You and Lavender!" she roared. "You let me believe the two of you were just snogging."

"Wait, hold on," he told her. "She practically had me under a love potion and you...you didn't even care. You were with McLaggen."

"Ron," she seethed.

"But what does it matter?" he pleaded. "We're together now. This is good and I'm happy waiting."

"You are?" she asked.

"Well no," he gave her the truth, "but I'd rather not do it with you than do it with someone else."

"Oh Ron!" she laughed. He wasn't the romantic type, but he did get his point across.

"But if you were to change your mind..."

Hermione huffed and pointed her wand at him. He didn't have a chance to duck the stream of water that drenched him within seconds. When the water ceased, she was gone, and Ron was left to finish the cleaning on his own.

* * *

**I promise this is the last we'll hear of Ron and Hermione's sex life, or lack thereof. I always thought she would be a stickler for waiting until marriage. If they managed to get through a war, they could hold off a little longer so it's a comical little aside but there are far more interesting stories coming up. Next chapter will be Christmas at The Burrow and includes a sweet moment with Fleur and the rest of the Weasleys.**


	20. December 25 1999

The air was thick with the smell of spiced pumpkin and peppermint bark. The crackling fireplace made The Burrow more warm and inviting than ever. Molly felt it had to be. Now that her children were getting older, they had all moved out. She thought by having a family of nine, The Burrow would never get lonely, but suddenly she was looking forward to the holidays more than anything, knowing it meant there would finally be laughter and joy to fill her humble home.

"Arthur!" she called to her husband, "did you finish with the tree?"

"Nearly done," he replied.

While he finished stringing the fairy lights in the living room, Molly prepared a dinner to put all other Christmas dinners to shame. In her efforts to teach someone in the family her secret recipes, she had nearly bestowed the entire wealth of her culinary knowledge to Ron, but not without reserving a few key dishes. As much as they begged, she would never reveal the key ingredient in her famous Christmas pudding.

Arthur and Molly spent a good part of the morning preparing for their impending guests. He finished with the decorations and then wrapped the rest of Molly's jumpers with an old spell she taught him during their first year of marriage. He was just finishing up when the flames in the fireplace flashed a bright green hue.

A few seconds later Charlie stepped into the living room giving his father a warm greeting. Arthur led him into the kitchen where Molly squealed with joy as her son hugged her tightly. Through the window they could see Percy apparated onto the lawn and strode toward the kitchen door. Hermione was close behind with Ron. Three broomsticks flew overhead and within seconds Ginny, Harry and George descended on The Burrow as Molly welcomed them with open arms.

"It smells amazing Mum!" George hugged her tightly.

"Come now," Molly led them into the living room.

As they gathered around the hearth, Arthur chatted with Hermione about the latest muggle inventions while Ron and Harry filled Molly in on their latest auror mission, interrogating reformed Death Eaters about any plans to avenge You-Know-Who. There was a time when the prospect of her son embarking on a dangerous mission would have frightened her, but now she knew Ron and Harry were both more than equipped to deal with the darkness that lurked in the wake of Voldemort's defeat.

They had just begun to reminisce when the flames in the fireplace glowed green once again. Bill stepped out and made some space for his wife who followed behind. Fleur was nearly halfway along in her pregnancy and her delicate frame boasted a swollen stomach, yet due to her veela heritage, she looked as beautiful as ever.

"Darling!" Molly hugged her tightly.

"Mrs. Weasley," Fleur smiled pronouncing the name with her usual affectation.

"Call me Molly," came the reply. "We're family."

It was a tiny gesture but heartfelt. Fleur's relationship with the Weasley women had been strained at first. She breathed a sigh of relief when Ginny came around but this tiny gesture on Molly's behalf finally cemented the familial bond.

"Alright," George sat down. "It's time for gifts."

He pulled a small bag out of his pocket. It increased in size as he shook it until it touched the ground. Then he reached inside and pulled out a rectangular box wrapped in gold paper with a green bow. He handed it to Ginny and then imparted the rest of his gifts. Everyone received an item soon to be sold in the joke shop. George had a knack for finding the perfect gifts that doubled as free publicity for his shop. Decoy wands for Ron and Harry, a magical locket for Hermione, and the upgraded Broom Broom kit for Ginny and Charlie. His father opened his box to find a mismatched collection of muggle magic and Molly received an instant water boiler. In honor of his impending fatherhood, George gave Bill a whistle that plays an instant sleep lullaby. In the same vein, Fleur received wireless Extendable Ears which George told her could be used to monitor the baby while she sleeps in another room. As usual Percy expected to get a package that exploded on impact or a bewitched plaque for his desk that called him a dirty name when he turned his back. But instead, George gifted him an hourglass intended to countdown until the day he meets the woman he would marry.

"Does this really work?" Percy asked him.

"That's the first one I've made," George replied, "so I guess we'll have to find out."

"At the rate it's going," Percy examined the sand slowly spilling from one chamber into the other, "it will take years."

"Really?" George couldn't resist the urge to taunt his brother. "I thought it'd be longer."

"Thank you," Percy smiled, "I guess."

Once George's gifts were distributed, Hermione handed out a round of rectangular packages. Each was almost identical in size to the others and shared a distinct rounded edge. They didn't even need to open them to know she had bought everyone books. After they opened gifts from the rest of the family, Arthur pulled out the gifts wrapped in the familiar packaging.

As usual, Molly knitted jumpers for the whole family, maroon for Ron of course. Harry's varied slightly from the rest of the family's in that instead of the basic ribbed stitching, his was a cable knit jumper. Hermione, not being an official family member received a pink scarf instead. This year Molly also presented an additional package to Fleur. For the first time, the Bill's French bride received a jumper, hers was beige with no initial. Tucked into the same box, Molly had also knitted a sky blue jumper for her first grandchild. It was much smaller than the others, and from what Fleur could tell, much softer.

"Thank you!" Fleur stood up to hug her mother-in-law.

"You're welcome dear," Molly smiled.

The others happily moved on from the conversation of warm weather attire, but in that moment, Molly and Fleur experienced a connection. For the first time since her wedding, Fleur felt like she was truly part of the Weasley family and Molly was thrilled to have her, especially since she was blessing them with the first Weasley grandchild.


	21. January 9 2000

The water lapped along the shores of Cornwall outside of Shell Cottage. Inside the humble home a fire roared in the hearth as the air filled with the rich scent of simmering wine. In the kitchen Fleur leaned against the counter stirring a pot of coq au vin and cradling her round stomach with her free hand.

Upstairs Bill had charmed four paint rollers to wash the nursery in a delicate shade of pink. Meanwhile he hung a set of curtains in front of the exposed window and finished the last bit of work in the bedroom. When he was satisfied that Fleur would approve, he removed the enchantment from the paint brushes and set them aside in the attic before going back downstairs where his wife was making dinner.

"It smells good," he told her.

"I hope your hungry," she replied.

After nearly five years in England, her accent had improved and only a hint of her French affectation remained. Of course Bill hardly noticed anymore and he couldn't imagine his wife sounding any other way.

"The baby's room is all ready," he said.

"Really?" she gushed. "I can't wait to see it after dinner."

Bill took that as his cue to grab plates from the cupboard. He set the table and Fleur put the finishing touches on dinner. He would never tell his mother but he had to admit Fleur's French cooking far surpassed the meat pies he had grown up on.

"There's something I need to tell you," Fleur said as they sat down at the table.

"Why do I get the feeling I won't like this conversation?" he laughed.

"It's not bad," she assured him, "but my mother and sister want to stay with us after the baby is born. They want to help."

"Darling," he took her hand, "I think that's a great idea."

"Really?" she smiled. "You don't think it's an imposition."

"Not at all," he replied. "If anyone will be an imposition it's my family. Their love can be suffocating at times."

"They're lovely people," she reminded him. "Your mum has been so sweet to me."

"She's very excited to be a grandmother," Bill laughed. "And Ginny's always wanted another girl in the family."

They finished dinner and then Bill offered to clean the dishes, using one of the charms his mother had taught him. When they were done in the kitchen, he led Fleur upstairs to the nursery where he showed her the baby's room he had spent all day preparing.

"Oh Bill!" she gushed. "I loved it."

"Really?" he asked.

"It's perfect," she said leaning into his side.

"The paint is still wet," he let her know. "Don't touch anything yet."

"Maybe we should open a window," she said fanning the air. "The fumes in here are giving me a headache."

"Oh right," Bill replied.

He opened the window and then led Fleur back downstairs away from the paint fumes. They plopped down on the couch and she stretched her legs massaging her aching side.

"Are you working tomorrow?" she asked him.

"I have to," he replied. "I already took off a week to prepare the nursery."

"I'm going to miss not having you home all day," she told him. Then she patted her stomach. "I've only got this baby to keep me company."

"What are we going to call her?" he asked. "You're with her all day. Any ideas?"

"Apolline?" she offered. "Like my mother."

"I don't think my mum would take well to that," Bill replied.

"How about Jacqueline?" came the reply.

"I'm sensing you won't settle on an English name," he smiled.

"My children might be born in England," she explained, "but they will still be half French."

"Children?" he asked. "How many are we planning?"

"Two," she said proudly. "Like my parents. Both girls."

"No boys?" he raised an eyebrow.

"There hasn't been a boy in my family for centuries," she replied. "Sorry darling, but male Veela are practically impossible."

"Our children will only be one-eighth Veela," he reminded her.

"It doesn't matter," she shook her head. "Veela are notoriously female."

"I guess I can forget about carrying on the Weasley tradition," he laughed.

"What's that?" she asked.

"Every time one of us turned eleven," he explained, "my father would take us to a Quidditch match."

"Girls play Quidditch too," she reminded him. "If I recall correctly, your sister makes a living at it."

"It's more than just the Quidditch," he elaborated. "Then he would give us _the talk_."

"The talk?" she asked. "I'm not familiar."

"You know," he nudged her, "the sex talk."

"Oh, oh," she giggled. "Isn't eleven a bit young?"

"The Weasleys are early developers," he winked at her. "Plus he didn't want us learning from other kids at school."

"Just so we are clear," she warned him, "I will be doing the sex talk with Jacqueline."

"So it's settled?" he asked. "We're naming her Jacqueline?"

"Yes," she replied. "I like it."

"Jacqueline it is," he smiled.

Fleur sighed. She was excited to become a mum and she knew Bill was going to make a great father. She only wished they didn't live so far from her family. The Weasleys were constantly apparating to Shell Cottage or popping in through the floo network but it was more difficult for the Delcaours. Crossing national borders required more permits and visits always had to be cleared with the Ministry unless they arrived by muggle transportation. Sometimes she just wished they could be closer, but she never regretted her decision to stay in England with Bill.

She would not have survived the war without him. They were strong individuals, but together they could conquer anything. She had a hunch she would have easily won the Triwizard Tournament had Bill been in her life then. But of course, no one really won the cup that year. She knew it was a dark path to go down to dwell on the events of the cup, but deep in the back of her mind she was thankful for each event that led up to her building a life with Bill.

"What are you thinking?" he asked her.

"I think we're going to make good parents," she replied. "This baby will be very happy."

"Yeah," he smiled. "I reckon so."

He looked over and smiled at his wife. She was the greatest thing to ever happen to him. Before he met her, he was worried he would end up like his brother Charlie, too engrossed in his work to find love. But Fleur changed everything. She saved him from becoming a lonely old man, or worse, a victim of the war. He knew they were ready to expand their little family but more importantly he was certain that the worst was over and together they could conquer every obstacle that came their way.

* * *

**I hope you liked this chapter and stay tuned for an amazing Valentine's Day chapter coming up featuring George and Angelina!  
**


	22. February 14 2000

The streets of Diagon Alley were littered with pink rose petals as intoxicated couples strolled hand in hand past the busy shops. It was, without a doubt, Angelina's least favorite day of the year. Yet she found herself straying from her usual Valentine's Day tradition of buying herself a box of Chocolate Cauldrons and promptly eating it in one sitting while skimming her flatmates' old copies of _Witch Weekly_.

But her plans were derailed due to a string of injuries that occurred during training. It was well past dinner time when she was finally done mending the last broken bone. That was how she found herself squeezing between various couples on her way to Sugarplum's Sweet Shop hoping to get her hands on all the chocolate they had left.

The pickings were sparse as most of the holiday stock had already been purchased. She settled on a handful of Chocolate Frogs and a Cauldron Cake. As she stood in the queue, she dug through her coin purse for a few Sickles. While she waited in the long line, her stomach growled reminding her that she had skipped dinner and chocolate was not a suitable substitute for a proper meal. So she paid for her sweets and had only just stepped into The Leaky Cauldron when a familiar face sought her out in the crowd.

"Angie?" George flashed her a smile.

"George!" she hugged her good friend. "What are you doing here?"

"Lee's keeping an eye on the shop for a bit," he explained. "I just popped in for a warm meal. Why are you here?"

"Same reason," she chuckled. "I'm starving."

"Would you want to have dinner together?" he asked. "Would that be weird?"

"George?" Hannah poked her head in and handed him a paper bag brimming with paper cartons. "Here darling."

He thanked the waitress and turned back to Angelina who was tightly gripping her bag of sweets.

"I know it's Valentine's Day," he rambled. "I just don't want to eat alone...and I've got plenty of food. Besides, you'll never get a table tonight."

"Sure," she nodded. "Dinner sounds great."

"Okay," he smiled leading her back to his flat.

They went up through the back staircase and Angelina silently chuckled at the events that led her back to George's flat. She tried to stifle the notion that her brief venture into Diagon Alley may have been prompted by a subconscious desire to casually run into him. She just didn't expect it would actually happen.

She shook the thought from her head as he laid the food down on the coffee table. George popped open a couple of ales and handed one to Angelina who had already curled up on the couch and was devouring a dinner roll. His mouth fell open in awe as he watched her inhale their dinner.

"Sorry," she said in between mouthfuls. "I haven't eaten all day."

"It's fine," he laughed. "Can I interest you in a plate or would that be a waste of time?"

"Stop it," she giggled, wiping her hands on a napkin. "I do have manners."

"Are you sure about that?" he teased her. "I don't recall."

When George was done teasing her she took a swig of ale. Their friendship was rare. It had always been genuine and easy but ever since the wedding something has changed. They had gone from close friends and confidantes to occasional bedfellows without skipping a beat. It seemed like the most natural step to take, so natural they hadn't even mentioned it.

Since the wedding they had spent innumerable nights together, never planned. It was always a spontaneous run in or an afterthought when they left a party in the early morning hours. Slowly he began attending more of Ginny's matches under the guise of a supportive brother while she suddenly found herself stopping into Diagon Alley more often and tonight's encounter was in the same vein.

"I should probably be getting back," she said coyly.

"We both know that's a lie," he winked.

Angelina held her breath as he leaned across the sofa and kissed her gently. The bottle in her hand toppled to the ground as she slid her arm around his neck.

"Bedroom?" she asked as his hands wandered under her jumper.

"Straight to the point," he laughed. "I like it."

She took ahold of his arm and with a tiny pop they were lying on his bed. She never tired of that trick. George was the only person she knew who could apparate while lying down. She shuddered to think of all the other girls who had fallen for the same trick but quickly returned to the task at hand: unbuttoning George's shirt.

"I'm glad I saw you tonight," he whispered in between kisses.

"Yeah," she breathed, hardly paying attention, "me too."

She didn't care for his incessant chatter tonight. She was far more interested in the other things talents he could accomplish with his mouth. But he was incessant. Maybe it was the two bottles of ale he polished off or the inevitable misery that comes with being single on the most romantic day of the year, but he suddenly felt compelled to reveal every thought that was running through his head in that moment.

"Angie," he panted, "I love you."

He could hear her suck in her breath and a coldness fell upon the room. She was frozen, unable to process the three fatal words he had just said. Meanwhile he instantly regretted the decision to speak candidly.

"Sorry," he said finally. "I didn't mean it like..."

"You know what," she gathered her clothes, "this was probably a mistake. Let me just..."

"Angie," he caressed her cheek. "Let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain," she pulled on her jumper. "We just took it a little too far this time."

With a pop she disappeared into thin air leaving George alone in his bedroom. Filling with rage he punched the pillow next to him. It wasn't meant to be like this. He would give anything to go back and make things right, or at the very least charm Angelina into forgetting what he said.

At the same time he was furious with her. She could have stayed and talked it through, at the very least acknowledged his feelings. Granted it wasn't the best moment to tell her he loved her, but they couldn't keep seeing each other in secret like this forever. He wanted something real. But he had very little time for self-pity before Angelina apparated right back into his bedroom.

"Sorry," she sighed. "I shouldn't have done that."

"It's fine," he replied. "I may have been a bit out of line."

"Look," she sat on the edge of the bed, "I know we have to talk about this eventually."

"Yeah," he nodded.

"But tonight's Valentine's Day," she explained, "and we're both alone, tensions are high, let's just take a breather and talk it over later when our minds are clear."

"Alright," he smiled, "what do we do instead?"

"I've got a few ideas," she winked.

* * *

**I hope you liked it! Expect more of George and Angelina around the corner. But first, the next chapter celebrates Ron's birthday with a special surprise thrown in for Hermione. It should be up by next Sunday **


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